


Keep of Nightmare and Shadow

by NetRaptor



Series: Destiny and Destiny 2 stories [36]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Guilt, Nightmares, Psychic Abilities, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27137174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NetRaptor/pseuds/NetRaptor
Summary: The Hunter Madrid has been a prisoner in the Dreaming City for killing Uldren. A bargain struck with Mara Sov secures his release, but he and his friend must journey to Earth's Moon and face the nightmares that await them beneath the Scarlet Keep: nightmares that will stop at nothing to break their minds. The Guardians push back with the help of a dead Guardian trapped in amber, but will it be enough to halt the rampaging Zulmak and the looming menace of the pyramid?
Series: Destiny and Destiny 2 stories [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1072209
Comments: 56
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

Two Guardians sat on a boulder on a cliff overlooking the Dreaming City. Lakes and rivers of mist billowed between the jagged mountain ranges, obscuring the buildings. Trees appeared and disappeared, their wind-twisted forms graceful and strange. The wind caught the tattered cloak of one of the Guardians, making it flap like a flag.

"How long has it been?" asked the warlock, her voice soft. She wore Braytech researcher robes over a thermal undersuit. The harsh V-shaped neck and yoke accented her figure.

"Thirty-four cycles," said the hunter wearily. He rested his elbows on his knees, shoulders slumped. His gauntlets were cracked and held together with layers of resin. "Three weeks a cycle. Two years and change."

The warlock rested a hand on his shoulder. "Don't give up, Madrid. Your sentence can't last forever."

"There's no reason why it should ever end," Madrid said. His glowing eyes were the amber of a light preparing to burn out. "I can't make up to the Queen for killing her brother. She'll punish me for the rest of my life." He held up one hand, displaying his torn glove. "My gear is falling apart. I've fought the same enemies every day for two years. There's no winning. The Corsairs have it worse off than I do. I can visit Reefedge, but they can't leave at all."

"They volunteered," said the warlock. Her skin was a lighter shade of blue than his. Her hair was bright red, and glowing freckles sprinkled her cheeks like stars. "They receive regular care packages from elsewhere in the Reef. But not you. It's not fair."

"I'm a prisoner, Silvan," Madrid said. "I don't deserve anything."

They watched the sun sink below the mists, turning them gold and pink. The many moons of the asteroid field overhead grew brighter.

"Well," said Silvan, "I'm going to have a word with the Queen about you."

"Don't bother," Madrid said. "She's left her court. Nobody knows where she is."

"You underestimate me," Silvan said. Her silver eyes flashed. "I'm a Gensym Scribe. My job is finding out things. Usually it's things that stubborn planets and moons would rather keep to themselves and kill me along the way. But if I can figure out how to enter the mines of Saturn, I can find Mara Sov."

Madrid raised an eyebrow. "Saturn has mines? What do they dig out, gas?"

"Yes," Silvan replied. "And very interesting types of ice. My point is, don't lose heart. We're very anxious about Earth's moon. Eris Morn's been there for weeks without responding to our queries. I'm on the hook for going to investigate, and I want you on my fireteam."

"It'll never happen," Madrid said, his voice low and exhausted. "Get Jayesh Khatri to help you."

Silvan suddenly beamed. "Oh, I'd love to run missions with Jayesh Khatri. But he's busy with his own fireteam. Plus … he's married."

Madrid blinked at her.

"Oh, nevermind," Silvan said, blushing. "He just published the most amazing book, all about how to use the Light in precise ways, and he signed my copy, and … anyway."

Madrid looked disgusted and stared at the horizon.

"Don't be like that," Silvan said. "I'm over him, I swear."

"I was on his first fireteam," Madrid said, very quietly.

Silvan was quiet a moment. Then she said, "I know."

"You know why we're not, anymore?"

Silvan stared at the ground. "I never asked. Don't tell me, Madrid. I don't want to … think less of either of you." She fixed her silver eyes on his face. "You were always my friend from the time I arrived at the Tower. You're the one who got me interested in studying Jupiter's moons. And now … Madrid, you're dying. Your Light is weaker every time I visit. You've got to get out of here. And Traveler help me, I will make Mara Sov see reason."

"And what if you make my sentence worse?" Madrid growled. "She could have my Ghost executed and throw me to the Nine. She gave them Skolas. He came back insane."

"Then I'm going to kidnap you," Silvan said. She tapped the prisoner's bracelet locked around his arm. "My Ghost is a hacker. He'll have this off you in a day. Then Sov will never find you."

Madrid grinned, in spite of himself. "Thought this through, have you?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Silvan said, smiling. "I am not setting foot on the moon by myself. The Hive have been building this crazy fortress there. Dad told me that I need to make my own fireteam instead of relying on him and Yuna all the time. You were my first pick."

"Know any Titans?" Madrid asked. "We need one for a complete team."

"I'm working on it," said Silvan with such confidence that Madrid was sure she didn't know a single one. Her father, Ivaran, was a Titan, and had always been the head of their family fireteam. Silvan hadn't interacted much with the warriors beyond that.

Madrid held up a hand and summoned his Ghost. Rose appeared in a swirl of transmat particles. She wore a handmade shell in the shape of a rosebud. Her blue eye blinked at him fondly. While shy of appearing around strangers, Rose didn't mind Silvan.

"What do you think?" he asked her. "Should Silvan try it?"

"There's no harm in speaking to the Queen," Rose said softly. "This time loop is slowly killing us both. Besides, Mara Sov might be merciful. Silvan might catch her on a good day."

Madrid gazed into his Ghost's eye for a long moment. She was integrated so deeply into his mind that he was able to send her a thought question and receive a reply at the speed of light.

_Uldren?_

_No._

The Awoken Prince had been revived as a Guardian, but nobody knew what had become of him. Madrid kept hoping that Uldren would show up and meet the Queen-maybe punch her lights out-and Madrid would be freed. But then, it was well known how much Mara Sov hated Guardians. She might punish Madrid worse for allowing her brother to come back as one.

But he didn't tell Silvan this. Uldren's resurrection was a secret that Madrid and Jayesh had kept for a year and a half.

Silvan climbed to her feet. "It's settled. I'm going to speak to Mara Sov. If you don't hear from me in a few days, assume she blasted me to atoms."

"Don't say that," Madrid began. Then he met Silvan's eyes and saw no trace of a joke there. She gazed at him for a second, then looked away. Silvan was afraid.

He touched her shoulder. "You don't have to do this."

"I have to try," she murmured. Her voice strengthened as she squared her shoulders. "Somebody has to stand up for you, Madrid. It's high time your sentence was lifted."

He escorted her down the hill to where her ship waited in the mist. As she prepared to transmat inside, Madrid said, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, yet," Silvan said without looking at him. "I don't even know if I can find the Queen."

"You found the Mines of Saturn," Madrid pointed out.

Silvan drew a deep breath, then exhaled. "The Mines weren't actively avoiding Guardians." She transmatted away, leaving Madrid alone, and worried.

* * *

"Bramble, what's the last known location of the Queen?" Silvan asked.

Her ship was far out on the fringe of the Reef. The asteroid field resembled a dusty cloud riddled with the angular shapes of wrecked spaceships. Silvan gazed at it, hands gripping her ship's flight yoke, even though they weren't maneuvering.

Her Ghost floated beside her in a pretty purple shell. He interfaced with the ship's computer and didn't respond for a moment. "Looks like she was last seen traveling around with Eris Morn."

Silvan bit her lip. "How long ago?"

"Three months. Before Eris went to Earth's moon."

Silvan turned these facts over in her mind. Eris Morn had gone to the Awoken Queen before tackling the Moon … that didn't bode well. Mara Sov was capable of travel through higher dimensions by herself, without a ship. Untraceable. But there had to be a way to contact her. Maybe Petra Venj would know.

"Silvan," Bramble ventured, then stopped.

"What is it, Bram?" she asked.

He spun the back half of his shell. "Well … Mara Sov is psychic, isn't she? Couldn't you reach her with your mind? You're Awoken."

"I've tried," Silvan replied. "I don't know how to … reach her frequency, for lack of a better term. Oh, I can dig into all kinds of things with my mind, but not her. Maybe she's shielded. Anyway, contact Petra Venj. I know we can reach her."

Bramble connected to the Vestian Outpost and transmitted Silvan's request to speak to Mara Sov. As they waited for a response, Bramble said, "What other psychic things have you done? The last ones I was aware of were when you probed those Fallen to find the hostages on Venus."

"Just small things," Silvan replied. "Sensing people's moods, things like that."

When she fell quiet, Bramble said, "Madrid?"

Silvan sat back in her chair and folded her arms, brooding. After a while, she said, "He has natural defenses I can't crack. I don't want to hurt him. But I can sense how miserable he is. Being around him is like quicksand. He's given up and his Light is going out. It's dimmer every time we visit. What happened with that girl he liked?"

"Wren?" Bramble said. "She was reassigned to another post and hasn't been back. I check in with Rose on each visit and she gives me updates. She said Madrid's depressed."

Silvan sat there, chin on her chest, her silver eyes gazing inward. Madrid had lost the girl he'd fallen for, poor guy. Silvan could have told him it wouldn't work out-Guardians and Corsairs had different allegiances. Eventually their separate masters would pull them apart. She'd seen it happen over and over through the years. Guardians had to form relationships with Guardians or not at all. And even then, Guardians died. The memory of Cayde-6's death was a fresh pain in her heart, right alongside the older wound when Andal Brask hadn't come back. Shin Malphur had turned into … well, whatever he had become. So many friends dead or gone. Silvan had resurrected as a child and grown up in the Tower, thinking everything would always be all right, as long as there were Guardians. But time and experience had been harsh teachers.

Madrid was one of her few surviving friends from her childhood, and by the Light, she wouldn't let him waste away. She'd been glad he'd avenged Cayde by killing Uldren, and in Silvan's opinion, Madrid's sentence had been unfair.

A message appeared on the ship's screen. Bramble had processed it before Silvan noticed it had arrived. "Looks like Petra sent us a set of coordinates. Let's see … they're for a location in the Reef, down in the really dense parts. Shall I calculate a flight plan?"

"Sure," Silvan said. She squinted at the message. "Why would Mara Sov be hanging out there? That's part of the Tangled Shore."

"Chatting with Spider?" Bramble laughed. "Who knows? The Queen's inscrutable."

Bramble's proposed course appeared on the computer screen. Silvan looked it over and accepted it, and Bramble fired up the engines for a burn.

Once they were in motion, and the burn had ended, Silvan said, "Be ready to give me manual controls at any time, Bram. Some Guardian out here did an NLS jump through the asteroids and churned them all up. You know Ashton? Had his ship get creamed by a rogue asteroid."

"I heard about that," Bramble said. "I'll keep my eye peeled."

Neither of them said much as they plunged back into the Reef. They were too busy watching the rocks and wrecked ships for danger. Before they reached their destination, Silvan had to take manual control and dodge out of the path of several big rocks and rusted hulks that were not on the computer's calculations.

As they neared the asteroid where the Queen was, two Awoken fighters fell in on either side of Silvan's ship.

"State your identity and business," said one over the radio.

"Silvan Nerisis," she replied. "Warlock. I need to speak to the Queen."

There was a short silence as the guards passed this up the line. Then the guard said, "Very well, she has agreed to meet with you. We will escort you."

Silvan exchanged relieved looks with Bramble. "That was easy."

"Too easy," Bramble murmured. "What's her game?"

They were silent as they descended toward the asteroid in question. An old ship had been set upright, creating a tower, and a town was built around its base. A haze of blue atmosphere hugged the asteroid, its upper reaches dotted with clouds. It reminded Silvan of the Dreaming City, but not so beautiful.

"Exodus Bronze," she said, glancing at the computer. "That's the name of the town. I've heard that it's pretty nice inside. Lots of gardens underground."

"I'll take your word for it," Bramble said.

They were guided in to dock at a spaceport that hung off the edge of the asteroid. Silvan unbuckled and stood up. "Come on Bram, let's-"

A surprise transmat surrounded her and yanked her through space. Silvan's body was converted to data, transmitted elsewhere, and converted back into matter. She arrived with a gasp and staggered on a black stone floor.

Bramble had been left behind. It was the first thing she sensed-his small, reassuring presence was no longer with her. The next thing she saw was a group of Awoken standing around a polished black stone the size of a car. This huge stone swirled with lines and holograms, acting as an enormous computer display.

Mara Sov was the shortest person there. The other Awoken stood at least a head taller than her, several Corsairs and two Techeuns. But all of them stood respectfully, almost tense, deferring to their Queen. As Mara Sov turned toward Silvan, so much restrained energy crackled off her that Silvan winced. Maybe being a psychic sensitive wasn't as much of a bonus as she'd always thought.

"Guardian," said Mara Sov. "Approach."

Silvan did so. Mara Sov's mane of white hair barely reached to Silvan's chin, but it didn't matter. Power blazed off her, invisible, but tangible. The Queen could, indeed, blast her to atoms if she'd wanted. Approaching her was like walking up to a reclining lioness.

"What is your business here?" the Queen asked. Her eyes were silver, like Silvan's, but with layer upon layer of secrets behind them. Silvan looked into those eyes and saw locks and bars, weights and balances.

"I'm Silvan Nerisis," the warlock said. "I've come to speak with you about Madrid, the hunter currently serving time in the Dreaming City."

Mara Sov's face did not change. But a flicker of psychic energy sparked off her like a lightning bolt. She hadn't forgotten him.

"What do you want with this … Guardian Madrid?" Mara Sov asked. She stared into Silvan's eyes without blinking.

Silvan was being probed. She tried to remember her mental defenses, but the Queen circumvented them and worked her way into Silvan's mind anyway. Memories were dragged to the surface: Twilight Gap. Madrid taking her for rides on his sparrow. Attending her resurrection day parties along with Cayde, laughing and having fun. He'd missed her warlock graduation, but attended her initiation into the Gensym Scribes. Debating politics during strikes and patrols. Their casual, easy friendship was found, analyzed, and considered.

"I see," said the Queen, although neither of them had spoken. "You consider his sentence unfair."

How much had the Queen read? Silvan didn't know what to say. Bramble would have kept Mara Sov from probing so deeply, which was probably why he'd been left behind.

"He's served his time, your majesty," Silvan said. "Madrid is a hunter. He needs his freedom. Being imprisoned is killing him. He's losing the will to live and his Light is going out."

Mara Sov gazed at her, unblinking. "You believe I should release him?"

"Yes."

The Queen said nothing for a long moment. Silvan had time to notice how hard her heart was pounding and how sweaty her palms were becoming.

Mara Sov lifted a hand and curled a finger. "It could be arranged … for a price."

Silvan's stomach tried to hide under her rib cage. "What price?"

Mara Sov turned to the huge stone computer. "Earth's Moon holds many secrets. I want you to plumb those secrets and create a weapon for me. A weapon of Darkness."

"A weapon of sorrow?" Silvan said in confusion.

Mara Sov's eyes widened a little for emphasis. "Darkness. Not sorrow. You have the ability. You are Awoken. Agree to my request, and I will release your friend."

Mara Sov's voice was slow and clear, offering a bargain. But it was wrapped in unknowns and questions without answers. Silvan had no idea if she could create such a weapon, or why the Queen might want it.

"What if I fail?" Silvan said. "I don't know if I could make a Darkness weapon."

"Then," said the Queen, "you will take Madrid's place in the Dreaming City."

Imprisoned in the time loop. Silvan considered. That wasn't too bad, really. Her disposition was different from Madrid's. She could be content to sit in one place and study the loop for years, but he needed his freedom. And maybe she could craft some bonkers weapon to satisfy the Queen, and it wouldn't matter, anyway.

"I accept," Silvan said.

The other Awoken murmured to each other.

Mara Sov smiled-a small, satisfied smile, as if she'd gotten the better end of the deal. "Very well. I will send a message to my Corsairs. By the time you reach the Dreaming City, Madrid will be freed."

Silvan made her best Reefborn bow with her hand before her face. "Thank you, your majesty."

Mara Sov turned away, returning to studying the vast stone screen. At once, Silvan was transmatted back to her ship.

Bramble was flying back and forth, pacing in midair. When she reappeared, he flew to her, opening his shell, expanding into a sphere of blue Light. "Silvan! Thank the Traveler you're back! Are you hurt? What happened?" He pulsed healing Light into her, just in case.

Silvan sat heavily in the pilot seat and slumped against the headrest. "I was taken straight to Mara Sov." She told him everything that happened. Bramble was a good audience. He floated above her hand, shifting his shell or opening it in shock.

When she finished, he flew in several circles, thinking. "A Darkness weapon, but not a weapon of sorrow. I honestly don't know how it could be done. But we'd better find out or the Dreaming City will get really homey."

"I'll figure it out," Silvan said. "For Madrid. Now, come on, let's go back and tell him what I did."

She wasn't sure, herself. Her hands trembled a little as she took the flight yoke.


	2. Reverie Dawn

Madrid was fighting Scorn with a dreary inattention. They always moved in the same ways, so he could kill them any way he wanted. Knife to the gut? Bullets through the brain? A fist to the skull? It didn't matter, because he'd kill them again in three weeks.

He dropped the last ravager and stood where he always stood to reload, in the shadow of a huge boulder. It blocked the sightline of a sniper on the next ridge who would shoot at him seven minutes from now. Around him, the sun shone bright on the Dreaming City, early on in the curse cycle, before the Taken corruption set in. Birds sang the same songs. The same grass grew underfoot. The same breeze rustled in the treetops. It would never change.  


"Hail, Guardian," a voice called.

Madrid startled and looked up. That had never happened before. Two Corsairs were approaching him, one carrying a satchel at her side. That was strange. No Corsairs were supposed to come out this direction for three more days.

"Under here," he called, beckoning to them from the lee of the boulder. "Protection from a sniper."

The Corsairs joined him, both with smiles showing beneath their helmets. "Hello, Madrid," said one. "The Queen has hereby declared that your service in the Dreaming City has ended. Present your tracking band."

Madrid stood there, stunned. He was so deep in the meaningless routine of the time loop that a deviation this huge was too much to grasp. This must be Silvan's doing. She'd gotten through to Mara Sov. What price had she paid for his freedom? 

He held out his arm, displaying the prisoner band that had been designed to kill him if he left the Dreaming City for longer than twenty-four hours. It had been locked over the top of his tunic, meaning he hadn't been able to undress and bathe since before his sentence. His clothing was stiff and filthy, and he reeked of despair.

But now the second Corsair removed tools from her satchel. With a couple of clicks, the band fell open, leaving an oily stain around his arm.

"You are free, sir," said the Corsair. "Congratulations. The Queen has smiled upon you at last."

"Thanks," Madrid said numbly. "I mean … thanks." He turned and walked away. The sniper's bullet whined past him, but he was far beyond caring. He lifted his scout rifle without even bothering to look in the sniper's direction and put a bullet through the Scorn's miserable head. Then he made his way down the mountain toward his ship without looking back.

"Is this real?" he thought to Rose. "Am I dreaming? Or have I cracked at last?"

"It's real," Rose said. The sheer joy in her voice assured him that this was no dream. He hadn't heard her so happy in years. "I've just received confirmation from Bramble. He and Silvan want to meet us in Reefedge. He says that you have time to clean up."

Madrid laughed. He could finally have a hot bath for the first time in two years. No more scrubbing at himself with a damp cloth that he had to throw away afterwards. No more gagging on his own stench whenever he climbed into the closeness of his ship's cockpit. 

He couldn't think beyond a bath, yet. Freedom was so huge, he couldn't even grasp it. All he knew was that he was never, ever returning to the Dreaming City.

He flew back to Reefedge, a small city built on a vast rotating torus of stone and ship parts. The Awoken lived here in many small towns. Near Reefedge, a Guardian had established a Vanguard outpost called the Dasa compound. Madrid went there whenever he could, because at least it wasn't the Dreaming City. Now he visited his usual room, filled the bathtub, and soaked himself for an hour. His hair, which had taken on a dirty gray hue, returned to its normal blue. His skin lightened several shades. Rose flew around the tub, giving him advice on spots he had missed, and whether he needed to wash his hair again for the third time.

When he emerged from the tub and let the extremely dirty water drain out, he said, "What do I have to wear? My old gear should be dismantled. There's no point in saving it."

"Well," Rose said, bobbing in midair. "I was checking our accounts while you were washing. Our Dasa mailbox has several engrams waiting for us."

"Oh really." Madrid raised an eyebrow. "Who are they from?"

Rose spun her shell around her core. "There's no return address. But the routing signature tracks back to the Vestian armory. Perhaps it's from Petra Venj?"

"At the order of Mara Sov, maybe," Madrid said. "Transmat them in and let's see what they sent. If it's new armor, I won't complain."

It was new armor. In fact, it was beautiful, hand-crafted Reverie Dawn gear, made of supple leather and Reef-manufactured silvsteel. Each piece was made of multiple layers, some for insulation, others for stopping projectiles. Only the highest-ranked guards of the Queen were ever given Reverie Dawn. Madrid's mouth twisted as he examined it. Gifts for a prisoner? Or tokens of a sealed bargain? Silvan must have sold her soul to the Queen for him.

He dressed in the gear, which fit him as if tailored to his tall, lanky frame. Rose watched approvingly. "You look good, love. When we woke up this morning, I had no idea that by evening, you would be freed and wearing armor fit for a prince."

"No," Madrid said sharply. "Not a prince."

Rose winced. "Sorry."

Madrid examined himself in the room's mirror. While the armor had come with a brand-new cloak, heavy and warm, he had opted to wear Cayde-6's tattered black and red cowl. The Hunter Vanguard had died in Madrid's arms, and Madrid had taken his cloak as a silent vow of vengeance. Cayde had been avenged, so now he wore it in memory of his friend. It made a sharp contrast against the shiny new armor and clean fiberweave.

Madrid was strapping on his various ammo and knife belts when Rose said, "Silvan is here. She wants to meet in the mess hall for dinner."

"Tell her I'll be out shortly," Madrid replied. "And also tell her I want to know what deal she made with Sov."

Rose was quiet for a moment. "She agrees. She sounds … strained."

A bad deal, then. Silvan was too honest and forthright to come out ahead of the scheming Queen. Madrid shouldered his scout rifle, teeth clenched. He remembered the way Silvan came to the Tower in the middle of the battle of Twilight Gap--a twelve-year-old girl with a Ghost, confused and lost. Madrid had taken her on patrols when she grew too stifled by the City. She had lived with her father in the wilds for so long that civilization was a tough adjustment. She may have had the Light of a warlock, but she had a Hunter's love of the wilderness. It was why she had taken assignments that let her roam the outer planets, where Madrid had sometimes accompanied her.

Silvan's expertise was in observation and research, not battling people socially. He was pretty sure she had a healthy slice of Awoken mind powers, too. Any psychic ability would leave her defenseless before the Queen. Which was probably what had happened--she'd had her brain cracked like an egg and agreed to whatever insanity the Queen had dreamed up.

Madrid arrived in the mess hall. It had a black marble floor and floor to ceiling windows. Plenty of tables and chairs clustered here and there, hosting tired Guardians who had come off duty and wanted to eat. Delicious aromas of food and Reef-grown coffee perfumed the air. Silvan sat at a table near the windows, gazing outside with her chin in one hand. She looked up as he approached.

"Hey there," she said, a bright smile breaking across her face. "You sure clean up nice! What armor is that?"

"Reverie Dawn," Madrid replied. "Let's grab dinner, talk later."

They picked up trays and loaded them with food from the buffet. Guardians tended to eat a lot, so the kitchens of the Dasa compound were generous, if a bit expensive. Madrid hadn't worked in two years and was aware that he no longer was eating on a prisoner's ticket, so he picked the cheapest options available.

They sat by the windows again. Silvan explained about finding Mara Sov and negotiating. "Really, it's not too bad. I make her a weapon of Darkness, or I take your place in the Dreaming City."

"How can you consider that not bad?" Madrid exclaimed, aghast. "She's asking you to manipulate Darkness, itself? And if it doesn't entirely quench your Light, you might be stuck in that time loop? Silvan, this is unacceptable."

"It freed you, didn't it?" Silvan replied, her silver eyes steady. "I'm not afraid to study the Darkness. Toland left behind lots of notes."

"Toland wanted to be a _Hive God_ ," Madrid replied. "Guardians go insane."

"Then help me so I don't," Silvan said. "Madrid, I know the risks. I watched Shin Malphur spiral. I was part of the team sent to watch him and his Dredgens. You don't know anguish until you have to watch that, day by day. Believe me, I know what's at risk. And it was worth it to free you."

Madrid ate in silence. In his head, he had a rapid-fire conversation with Rose.

_ She's promised to do the impossible. _

_ Not impossible. _

_ Can she do it? _

_ Eris Morn could help her. _

_ Eris lost her Ghost. She's unstable. _

_ I'll ask around. Somebody will have ideas. _

In a different part of his brain, Madrid spun through what he knew about Light and Darkness. He was a Hunter, for the Traveler's sake. He didn't study these things. Jayesh would have known all about it because warlocks did that. But he wasn’t speaking to Jayesh, now or ever.  


"You're quiet," Silvan observed, watching his face.

Madrid nodded. "Just thinking. Eris Morn might have leads on the Darkness thing."

Silvan nodded. "The Drifter, too."

"Who's the Drifter?"

Silvan laughed. "I forgot, you've been out of commission for a while. The Drifter's this Lightbearer who started this unsanctioned game called Gambit. Sort of a honeypot to lure in Guardians who were going bad. He messed with Darkness a lot. He treats Taken like tools. I've never seen anybody do what he does. If anybody could make a Darkness weapon, he could."

Madrid thought about this as he ate. To Rose, he remarked, _We have options._

_ Yes. Don't be so upset. _

_ Database query: Drifter? _

_ Three gigabytes returned. The Vanguard has been watching him for some time. Attempt to contact him? _

_ Yes. Send message inquiring about building a weapon of Darkness. _

_ Sending. _

Silvan summoned her own Ghost, smiling. "Well! Now that you're free, it's time to set up a fireteam. I'm going to put out a general request for a Titan on the Vanguard server. We can head back to the Last City and meet them."

Madrid nodded. A sudden, powerful homesickness hit him for Earth, the City, and the Tower. He'd buried those feelings during his imprisonment, but now they came flooding in, like a second hunger that could not be satisfied.

After their meal, he and Silvan signed out of the Dasa compound and went to their ships. "I've known a lot of good Titans," Madrid said. "But I don't know who would want to hit up the Moon with us. The old hands remember the Great Disaster. They either obsess about revenge or never speak of it again."

"Hopefully we'll find someone," Silvan said.

As their ships took off, Madrid asked Silvan over the radio, "I forgot to ask. Who's the new Hunter Vanguard?"

"There isn't one," Silvan replied.

Madrid blinked at his instrument panel. "How can that be? Who manages the Hunters, then?"

"Zavala, mostly," Silvan replied. "A lot of them go out to Mars and hang out with Ana Bray. Nobody wants the job, and there's the problem of the Dare. Whoever kills the Hunter Vanguard takes his place. Well, Cayde was killed by Uldren, under the influence of Riven, under the control of Savathun. See the problem?"

"I see," Madrid said slowly. "Well, we can't have a Hive goddess running the Hunters." He didn't say it aloud, but he didn't want Uldren in that post, either. But nobody knew about the resurrected Prince or where he'd gone, so he kept that thought to himself.

He plotted a course to Earth instead of letting his Ghost do it, simply for the sheer joy of putting his back to the Reef. Setting Earth as his destination was like spreading healing balm on a wound. His ship couldn't take him there fast enough.

As the near-lightspeed drive kicked in, Rose said, "Response from the Drifter."

"Play it."

A somewhat scratchy drawl played in Madrid's ear. "Hey there, brother, good to hear from you. Sure, ol' Drifter knows about Darkness. Knows about building weapons, too. You want tips, come see me in the Annex. Maybe play a game of Gambit, too, huh?" He laughed and ended the message.

_ Rose, is this guy for real? _

_ I think he is, love.  _

Madrid settled back in his seat and adjusted his flight harness. Four more hours and he'd be home. He'd meet this Drifter, return to his old quarters, and hit up the City. Although Madrid preferred the wilderness, he hadn't seen the City in two years, and he wanted to see the rebuilding, the people, the children, and how they were getting along. He hadn't been home since the plague winter, and a lot could have happened.

Home. What a word. Madrid had found long ago that he could live anywhere, but the Last City was always home.

He watched his map in anticipation.


	3. Scarlet Keep

Silvan hadn't seen Madrid so happy in years. Between a bath, new armor, and a new lease on life, he was a different person. His Light looked better, too. It wasn't as bright as it had once been, but a little time spent around the Traveler would do him good.

It was worth her promise to Mara Sov. Even though she tried not to think too hard about it.

The next thing to do was to find a Titan willing to tackle a Moon mission. So far there had been no responses to her job posting, which wasn't surprising. The Moon was a quarantine zone, and there were more pressing threats elsewhere in the system. Titans were in high demand everywhere, and were reluctant to take low-priority missions, like patrolling Luna base.

When they arrived at the Tower--or the Tower Walk, since the actual Tower was still being rebuilt--Silvan went to talk to her Commander. Madrid went to check in, inspect his quarters, and do a hundred other small tasks a Guardian had to do to keep life running.

It was early autumn on Earth, the mountains around the Last City turning rusty red and gold. The wind had the bite of frost in it, although the sun shone warm on her face and hands. Silvan turned her face to it for a moment, basking like a lizard. After the chill of the Reef, Earth's great, friendly warmth was like a huge hug. What was more, she felt the Traveler's Light like a second sun, warming her from a different angle. She closed her eyes and opened her mind, exercising her psychic sense. The Traveler made a sound--a constant, melodic hum. At certain times the tone changed, playing a slow, soothing melody. Silvan always turned to that sound to relax. It could mend her mind when psychic damage occurred, as it had the last time she'd tried to battle a Hive witch mind to mind. She'd cheated and shot the witch, but only after her nose had begun bleeding from the strain.

Bramble must have been attentive to the way her thoughts were running. "You're not a battle psychic, Silv. Please don't try it on the Moon. Those Hive up there are Crota's brood, and they're worse than the rest. They're royalty."

"I know," Silvan said softly. "I'll be trying to block them out, not speak to them. Look how easily Mara Sov peeled me apart."

"That's what worries me." Bramble spun his purple shell in a concerned way. "You're a good fighter, but your power leaves you vulnerable. I can't protect you entirely."

"Don't worry about it, Bram," she said, stroking his shell. "That's why I'm assembling a team. I just need to ask Ikora about a Titan. Maybe we can get by with another Hunter."

Ikora Rey had a little office off the Tower Walk, filled with books and arcane instruments favored by warlocks. It always smelled of incense and old paper. Ikora, herself, had the strikingly beautiful features of her African ancestors, and wore a robe in three shades of purple. She was working at a laptop as Silvan entered, and closed the screen as she looked up. "Yes?"

"Commander," Silvan said. She started to make a Reefborn bow, caught herself, and gave a Vanguard salute. "I'm assembling a team for my upcoming mission to the Moon, but I can't locate any available Titans. I came to ask what I should do."

Ikora smiled at her fumbled greeting. "At ease, Silvan Nerisis. Sit down and I'll consult the database. Have you posted a request on the job board?"

"Yes ma'am," Silvan replied. "No bites."

Ikora opened her laptop again and typed for a moment. "You were intent on Madrid as your Hunter. I assume that failed."

"No, he's here," Silvan said cheerfully. "I brought him home."

Ikora raised an eyebrow. "And how did you manage that?"

"I … I spoke to the Queen." Silvan looked down.

Ikora folded her hands and leaned forward. "What did you promise her?"

Silvan said nothing.

"I know how Mara Sov operates," Ikora said. "Favor for favor, secret for secret. She would not have released her brother's killer without receiving something in return."

Silvan drew a deep breath. "She asked me … to build her a weapon of Darkness. Not sorrow--Darkness. If I fail … I'll take Madrid's place in the Dreaming City."

The words seemed to hang in the air for several long seconds, heavy with doom.

"She asks you to do Techeun's work?" Ikora said in a low voice. "She demands the impossible, Silvan. Binding the Darkness into a weapon would destroy you. We don't even understand it. How could you agree to this?"

Silvan's face grew hot as her insides turned sick with shame. She almost wanted to throw up. If Ikora thought she would fail, what chance did she have?

Through trembling lips, she said, "Madrid was dying. I couldn't .. couldn't let him stay there. I don't mind the Dreaming City. I can take a permanent station there."

"Unless you build a weapon of Darkness," Ikora said.

Silvan nodded. "Please don't report me to the Praxic Order."

Ikora smiled a little. "If the Darkness consumes you, there won't be anything left for the Praxic Fire to purge."

Silvan didn't know whether to smile or burst into tears.

Ikora pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment. Then she returned to typing. "I have a Titan in mind for this mission. I'll see if he's available. He's a weapon specialist and could help you on your quest." She looked up, eyes narrowed. "Don't forget about your main objective. Find and assist Eris Morn."

"I haven't forgotten," Silvan said. "I'm hoping she can give me advice."

She waited as Ikora worked. After a few minutes, Ikora looked up. "Ah, he's agreed to join your fireteam. Valis-2, an excellent Striker and Defender. I’ll brief him and have him meet you tomorrow before launch.”

“Thank you,” Silvan said. All she could think of was getting out of there and hiding in her quarters for a while, where she could be alone. She saluted again and scurried away.

Her rooms were in the newer high rise apartments built after the Red War. She’d lived in her father’s apartment until she was grown, then she’d moved a few doors down into her own place. She’d decorated it with artwork purchased from City artists and Guardian friends, and had two floor to ceiling bookcases crammed with books. Her writing desk was cluttered with odd artifacts and strange rocks from other planets. Every inch of her quarters spoke of her boundless curiosity.

As soon as she was home, Silvan sat in her favorite armchair to pull off her boots. “Bramble, what have I gotten myself into?”

The Ghost materialized and watched her glumly. “A huge steaming mess, that’s what. Death or imprisonment, hooray, my favorite choices.”

Silvan looked up at him. “Come on, you’re supposed to cheer me up. You’re a fighting Ghost, remember?”

“How do I fight this?” Bramble replied. “I hack machines, not people. If I could solve our problems by hacking a tank, or a starship, or, or Mara Sov’s stupid brain, then I would. But the worst Darkness you’ve ever faced, I wasn’t even there.”

When Silvan had been a child, lost at night on the Twilight Gap battlefield, she had been rescued by a man who she had thought was a Guardian--a man in black who carried a hand cannon studded with bone. Some nights, when she was lying awake, his words would come back to her … _Harness your power, child ... or allow it to harness you._

Shin Malphur had killed Dredgen Yor a few years later, so Silvan had never seen him again. But the man’s foul influence had dragged Shin down the same path of sorrow for many years, while Silvan could only watch and grieve. She had liked Shin, who had become a Guardian when scarcely older than herself. He carried such a weight of grief and anger that he had never properly coped with, but he allowed no one to help him. Today he was known as the Man with the Golden Gun, and shady people like the Drifter lived in fear of him. But Silvan saw only the teenaged Guardian she had known years ago, wearing borrowed clothes, boots that didn't fit, and carrying a hand cannon that didn't belong to him.

Her thoughts must have been easy to read. Bramble flew up to her face, his eye scrutinizing hers. "I'm sorry, my star-child. I didn't mean to stir those memories. I'm going to learn to hack Darkness, just for you. I know a Ghost who did it. Maybe he can teach me."

Silvan blinked at him. "A Ghost who didn't die? Who?"

"Drifter's Ghost," Bramble replied. "He manages the Taken and all that stuff for Gambit."

"Oh," Silvan said. "I've heard about him. Drifter built a ton of extra parts onto him from dead Ghosts. It ruined him so he can't talk now."

"He can text," Bramble replied. "He's always posting jokes to the Gambit bounty board. He's like Drifter--funny, but shady. You never know what he's really up to."

Silvan stroked Bramble's shell. "I don't want to hurt you that way."

"They didn't have a choice," Bramble said. "They were stranded on an alien planet, and it was kitbash or die. You and I have more options."

“I hope so.” Silvan stroked him for another moment, gazing into his eye, letting him feel the deep affection she held for him. He returned it, his soul brushing hers.

Silvan rose to her feet and pushed him into the air. “Go talk to Drifter’s Ghost. I’m going to take a shower and change. I want to talk to Dad when he gets back tonight.”

“Will do,” said Bramble, and phased through the door.

* * *

Madrid took another luxurious bath in his long-abandoned quarters in the Tower, then spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in the City. He explored the rebuilt neighborhoods, visited the areas he had last seen in ruins but were now thriving commercial districts. He wound up far out on the east side, where entire neighborhoods and stands of woodland had become huge craters in the ground. Now the craters were full of water, making circular lakes. Trees had been replanted, and new housing developments were springing up around the crater lakes.

Rose flew out over one of the lakes, looking like a little darting bird with a glowing blue eye. She flew close to the water’s surface, flashing her scan beam into it here and there. Madrid sat on the bank and watched her fly. Beyond her, he had a fine view of the Traveler’s huge floating sphere and the sun setting beyond it. He fancied he could see the edge of the Traveler’s Light field catching the failing sunlight, gleaming like a dome over the top of the City. He’d thought he’d never see any of this again.

Rose flew back to him and floated at his shoulder, admiring the view. “The lake is stocked with fish. Smallmouth bass and catfish.”

“I’ll let the cityfolk fish for them,” Madrid said. “I know where I can find muskie. Best fighting fish you’ll find in fresh water.”

The sun sank behind the mountains, leaving rays and shadows across the sky in long bands. The peace sank into Madrid’s soul like cool water into parched ground. Here were no endless attacks by the same enemies, week after week. No creeping Taken corruption. No curse. Only the simple, wholesome security of the Light.

“You’re at rest,” Rose observed quietly. “Your heart rate is the lowest it’s been in more than two years.”

“I’m finally off duty,” Madrid said. “It’s nice.”

“Yes, it is.”

As the sunset faded to blue and the light shining from the gaps in the Traveler brightened, Rose said, “Are you worried about what we might find on the Moon?”

“I know what’s on the Moon,” Madrid said. “Hive. There’s enough Darkness there to make Silvan a thousand weapons. And if we can’t make it there, the Drifter offered me some of his bottled Darkness. Those motes of his. All I have to do is play Gambit a few times and collect some.”

“That might be easier than whatever Silvan is thinking of doing,” Rose agreed.

Madrid shrugged one shoulder. “We do need to find some artifact of the Hive to store the Darkness in. The Drifter emphasized that. The gun has to have a magazine or a battery. That’s what we’ll start with. The rest is physics.”

As they sat there, relaxing, Rose said, “Oh. I’ve just received a personal message for you.”

Madrid glanced at her expectantly.

Rose dipped from side to side, as if she was trying to figure out how to tell him. “It’s from Jayesh.”

Madrid looked at the horizon again. “Play it.”

Jayesh’s familiar voice said, “Madrid! I heard you’re back in the Tower! Want to come over for dinner sometime? We can talk shop, get you back on the fireteam. How about it?”

Madrid sat in silence.

After a few minutes, Rose said gingerly, “Are you going to reply?”

“No,” said Madrid.

Rose made a sound like a sigh. “I thought you made up with him.”

“I did,” Madrid said. “Do you know what he did?”

Rose said nothing.

Madrid said through his teeth, “He sacrificed his Light for me. _His. Light._ Last I heard, he was stuck Cityside with so much psychic damage, they thought he’d never fight again.” He drew a long breath. “And I fed him to the chimera, Rose.”

“You feel guilty,” Rose whispered.

Madrid nodded once. “I don’t want to see him. He’s better off without me.”

They watched the twilight fade in silence. In further silence, Madrid summoned his sparrow and flew back to the Tower lift, taking the long way around, through the trees at the foot of the wall. By the time he reached his rooms, he was ready to leave Earth again. The moon sounded like the closest he wanted to come to his old friend for a long, long time.

* * *

The next morning, Silvan and Madrid went to meet the Titan who had volunteered to join their team.

The Exo was waiting for them in the hanger, dressed in casual slacks and a jacket with a heavy pack over one shoulder, which made an odd contrast to his green metal head. He carried a hot drink in a paper cup, which he sipped as he waited for them. His Ghost hovered beside him in a shell like a snowflake, trimmed with blue and gold. Silvan actually stopped and gasped at the Ghost. "My goodness, that shell is gorgeous!"

"Thank you," said the Ghost, bobbing politely in midair. She had a quiet, feminine voice.

"You've just made her day," said the Exo in a deep, gruff voice. "I'm Valis-2, but my friends call me Jin. This is Sakura."

"Pleased to meet you," Silvan said, shaking his hand. "I'm Silvan Nerisis and this is Madrid."

Jin looked at Madrid. "First or last name?"

"Yes," said the Hunter.

"I like you two already," said Jin. "What heat are we packing?"

"I'm bringing an auto rifle, a sidearm, and a fusion rifle," Silvan said.

Madrid said, "Scout, sniper, sniper."

Jin blinked his purple eyes."Long range only, huh? What about close range?"

Madrid drew a curved hunter's knife from its sheath on the back of his belt.

"Good enough," Jin said. "I've got a hand cannon, a machine gun, and the Aestivalis mark two."

"Uh," Silvan said, "what weapon is that? I've never heard of it."

"It's me," said Jin. "I am the scariest Titan in the Vanguard. I usually work alone, but Ikora assigned me to your team. She must be very worried about Ms. Morn."

Silvan and Madrid glanced at each other. The Titan must be bragging, even though he stated this as if it were fact.

Jin caught their uncertain look and pointed at them. "That right there is why I work alone. Other Guardians don't understand. I'm not asking you to understand. Just keep out of my way when I ask. Right?"

"Right," Madrid said. "Let's get going. Eris Morn could have been eaten by the Hive ten times over by now."

The three of them scattered to their ships. Before long they were soaring to orbit, their Ghosts setting course for the moon.

Once the initial burn was over and escape velocity had been reached, Bramble said to Silvan, "Was Jin serious? Or was he teasing us? I couldn't tell."

Silvan considered. "I only sensed the surface of his mind, but I don't think he meant it as bragging. He was completely serious about being the scariest Titan. And … that worries me. You know how scary Dad could be in a big fight. Could Jin be scarier than Dad?"

"Maybe it's a good thing," Bramble said thoughtfully. "The Hive are so deeply entrenched up here, we'll need a tank who isn't afraid of battle."

"I wish we had an actual tank," Silvan said with a laugh. "It might make finding Eris Morn easier."

They lapsed into silence as the three ships fell into formation and winged toward the moon. With conventional rockets, it took five days to reach it. With NLS drives, a ten-second jump put them into the moon's orbit. Silvan and Jin Valis flew single-pilot jumpships, but Madrid flew a big cruiser meant for housing multiple people. He lived on it for months at a time, so he'd invested in comfort.

They flew in to Luna Base and landed near the old monorail station, Archer's Line. The moon had a thin, dusty atmosphere, owing to the Traveler's terraforming touch. Helmets and oxygen were still recommended, because trying to breathe on the moon was like trying to breathe at high altitude on Earth, but it was survivable. Golden Age mankind had built extensively there--unaware that the core had been hollowed out by the Hive.

The landscape was grayscale, with the sun glaring on the harsh white rocks and plains, and long black shadows behind every rock. The remains of the monorail station stood like a monolith to the past strength of humanity. And there were no aliens.

As the Guardians left their ships and set out onto the surface, their sensors detected no life. No Fallen, which usually lurked around this area. No Hive. And no sign of Eris, not even a ship.

"This is strange," Madrid said, standing still and watching his helmet HUD. "I'm not even detecting movement around the Hellmouth."

"Slow day on the moon?" Jin said with a laugh. He'd suited up in dingy armor that had once been white, but was now scraped and battered to a nondescript gray.

"Eris was investigating the Hive," Silvan said. "She was lost here for months after her fireteam was killed. I imagine she knows it pretty well."

"We might as well check the Hellmouth, then," Madrid said, lifting his scout rifle from its strap across his back. "Sparrows out."

A short sparrow ride through the gullies and ruins of the area brought them to the Hellmouth, a mile-wide hole straight into the depths of the moon. Nobody knew if the Hive had dug it out, or if it was a sinkhole they'd commandeered and turned into an underground city. Huge structures edged the east and west sides, and various crane-like machines hung over the edges. Deep in the hole itself, orange lights gleamed. They might have been the crystals that grew from the filth the Hive left behind, or they might have been the eyes of some sleepless creature.

The dust was pitted with the tracks of thralls and acolytes, but there were no aliens in sight. Even their Ghosts detected no movement. All alien life had withdrawn deep within the moon, leaving the surface barren.

As they stood there, a sudden pressure struck Silvan’s mind. She immediately erected mental barriers of prime numbers and rhymes, and turned in a circle, looking for the source.

“What is it?” Madrid asked.

“Psychic attack,” Silvan replied. “Usually from a Hive Witch, but this one is really strong.”

Madrid and Jin raised their weapons and scanned for hostiles, but there were none in sight. The pressure in Silvan’s head increased, a burning, relentless hatred of her and the Light within her. An image formed in her mind of a Hive Witch, but none like she had ever seen. This alien was dressed in red chitin armor with swept-back spikes on the shoulders and a long, trailing gown. Instead of three eyes, she had one one glowing dome over the top of her head. A loop of chitin rose from her collar and ringed the back of her head, like a halo of bone.

That glowing, compound eye turned in Silvan’s direction. “Lightbearer,” came the monster’s thought. “You shall not befoul this holy ground.”

Pain blistered through Silvan’s brain, followed by blackness. She struggled to hold it at bay, to shield herself with her Light. Instantly Bramble was there, too, lending his own mental strength to hers.

The Hive Witch raised a hand and vanished from Silvan’s awareness. And the ground began to shake.

It began first as a gentle swaying, like a mild earthquake. It quickly grew to rolling, like waves of the sea. The Guardians staggered and dropped to all fours, rather than be thrown from their feet.

A series of shocks struck through the waves, as if a giant had kicked the ground out from under them. The Guardians found themselves tossed in the air as the ground bucked. In the distance, the ground split in a huge fissure, the edges tearing open and sliding away backwards. Dust blasted into the air. From within the fissure rose a tower--a red, jagged, spiked tower that seemed to emerge from the moon’s depths like the end of a spear from the chest of a victim. A chorus of screams greeted it, as if every one of the millions of Hive were singing a horrible hymn. Psychic blasts struck Silvan with such force that she fainted.

The earthquake died away, the shocks and rolling dropping to a faint trembling. Madrid and Jin picked themselves up, their Ghosts healing the bruises they’d sustained. Silvan’s Ghost was busy healing her, when all of their HUDs lit with activity.

“Uh, Madrid,” Jin said, “looks like the whole Hellmouth is about to empty.”

The entire area on their maps was obscured by enemy flags--so many that their hardware couldn’t even display them.

“We can’t fight them,” Madrid said. “Ghosts, transmat us back to our ships. Silvan, wake up!”

She groaned and stirred, pressing a hand to the side of the helmet.

“Time to go,” Madrid said, hauling her to her feet. “Transmat!”

Within two minutes, the Guardians had taken off and were beating a hasty retreat to orbit as the Hive flooded onto the surface. Jin called in a report to the Vanguard, asking for emergency backup.

Silvan slumped in her pilot seat, one hand resting limply on the flight yoke, letting Bramble do the flying. Her head rang as if she’d gone five rounds with an ogre. And that Hive Witch lingered in her mind’s eye, clear as a photograph.

“These Hive are strong,” she told Bramble. “I don’t know if I can go back down there. They’re just going to tear my head apart from the inside.”

“Rest, now,” Bramble told her softly. “You were badly hurt, and the healing takes time to fully work when psychic damage is involved. You don’t want to end up like Jayesh.”

“He got well,” Silvan said. “Mostly.”

“He’s not a sensitive, like you,” Bramble said. “Rest. Sleep, if you can. I’ll keep us safe for now.”

Silvan closed her eyes and tried to quiet her mind. The Hive Witch began to fade from the forefront, replaced by the green trees and rippling water that Silvan used to calm herself. But slowly, that changed, too. Now she saw Eris Morn, a blindfold across her face with black tears leaking from beneath it. Her three stolen Hive eyes glowed through the blindfold’s cloth. She seemed to look straight at Silvan, and she smiled.

“There you are,” she said, her voice seeming to come from miles away. “I knew I felt you. Come to the Keep. We have much to discuss.”


	4. Nightmare

The Vanguard called out all the Guardians and they descended upon the moon in a wave of Light and bullets. Silvan, Madrid, and Jin let them clear the first wave of Hive, then followed their brethren in breaching the defenses of the Scarlet Keep.

Madrid analyzed the weapons the various Hive castes used. Surely something out here used Darkness weapons. Silvan could steal one, pass it to Mara Sov, and be free of her obligation. But all he saw were the usual shredders and boomers the Hive used. These Hive, Crota's brood, all had scarlet chitin armor that matched their evil ground-cracking fortress. Their weapons were stronger, too. Madrid's new armor weathered many blasts, including the necrotic gaze of an ogre that withered his chest plate and shoulder like acid. It was a good thing that Rose had taken the measurements of this armor so they could rebuild it later.

But nothing used actual Darkness, itself. He'd met these types of weapons before. The Hive in the Dreaming City used this stuff. It was damaging and dangerous, but nothing that would impress Mara Sov. Maybe something darker awaited them inside the Keep.

A group of Guardians breached the outer walls of the Scarlet Keep with tanks flown in by the Vanguard. They'd gone as far as the outer courtyard, but there the Guardians had stopped. There were no Hive in sight, yet the Guardians huddled together, unwilling to venture further inside.

"What's wrong?" Madrid asked them, striding up. "There's an open doorway right there."

"There's something in there," said a Titan, gripping a shotgun like a shield. "I saw it. Something that … that walks through walls."

"They're hanging in the air," said a warlock, her voice trembling. "Dozens of them."

"Dozens of what?" Silvan asked, catching up to Madrid. "Hive?"

"Not Hive," said a Hunter. "People. Dead people."

"That's disgusting," Jin Valis said, walking up. "What are we waiting for? Let's cut them down and give them a decent burial."

"It's not like that," said the warlock. "They're not hanging, they're floating. Evil spirits."

"Spirits," Madrid said flatly. "Are you saying the moon's haunted?"

The other Guardians nodded.

Madrid actually laughed. "Spirits can't hurt the living, can they? Come on, team, let's clear a path for the rest of these cowards."

Madrid thought this would goad the other Guardians into following them. Instead, he was disconcerted to see them standing there, watching his team enter the doorway.

"They'll come screaming back out in a minute," muttered a Titan.

"If they come out," said a warlock.

Madrid shook his head at the cowardice of modern Guardians. They’d probably all resurrected since the Red War and thought a few rounds of Crucible were the worst thing that could happen to someone. He’d been a young Guardian when the Great Disaster happened, and later survived Twilight Gap. There were far worse things than a few flying bullets. If there really were spirits in here, he wasn’t worried about them.

The passage burrowed into the rock of the moon’s surface, winding beneath the Keep. In many places its branching paths had collapsed from the recent moonquake, but something had come through and heaved boulders aside, keeping the main path open.

“I don’t see any spirits,” Jin remarked as his Ghost ignited her headlight in the dark passage. “But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? You can’t see them because they’re invisible.”

“There’s something here,” Silvan said, helmeted head turning from side to side. “I feel … oppressed. Something knows we’re here.”

Madrid cast her an anxious look. She’d been awfully quiet since her collapse earlier. Silvan was usually at the forefront of any fight, but today she’d been content to follow in the rear, supporting her team with healing rifts and cover fire. Had the Hive damaged her, somehow? He knew she had Awoken telepathic powers, but he’d never heard of an Awoken enduring such a mental assault before.

Something moved. Madrid halted and raised his scout rifle. His Ghost shone her beam toward it. They glimpsed a Hive thrall as it darted sideways and vanished into a wall in a swirl of vapor. Madrid walked forward and examined the wall. Solid rock. He’d seen illusion tech that could mimic solid walls, but the stone held up when he kicked it. “Huh,” he grunted.

“Spirits of dead thralls?” Silvan suggested.

Jin gave a single laugh. “I’m more worried about live Hive than dead ones. I didn’t think they had souls, anyway.”

“They must, because Crota had that oversoul,” Silvan said. “Guardians had to kill him in his … in his throneworld …” Her voice dropped to a mutter.

Floating in the air near the passage ceiling was a dead Guardian. It had been a Titan, because its armor was clearly visible--Vanguard issue Lightmail, with the Titan logo on the shoulder. It appeared in shades of red when they directed their lights at it, but its arms and legs faded away into scraps that hung beneath it. Its blank, helmeted head turned toward them, showing awareness.

The Guardians stared at it in speechless silence. Madrid’s flesh crawled with goosebumps beneath his armor. It really was a spirit. He half-raised his rifle, but what good would that do? The thing was only half-manifested as it was. Silvan stood beside him, one arm raised as if to shield her face from a blow. He sensed her trembling.

Suddenly Jin pushed past them. “What do you want?” he shouted. He swung the butt of his rifle at the phantom. It faded away and vanished. He turned to his companions with a shrug. “Some new devilry of the Hive’s to demoralize us. Come on, let’s go.”

They’d only gone a few paces when another thrall stepped out of the wall. It looked different from the ones outside that had been simply wearing red chitin. This one trailed blackness like smoke, and when it leaped at Jin, it nearly knocked him down. He punched it in the eyeless face. Such a blow from an armored Titan should have caved in the skull of any normal thrall. All this one did was flinch backward a little, then shriek in rage. It leaped past him on all fours and ran straight at Silvan.

She threw up a hand and struck it with a lightning bolt from her palm. The thrall barely flinched and leaped at her, grabbing her arms and trying to bite through her armor. Silvan shrieked and spun in a circle, trying to fling it off. Madrid drew his knife, grabbed the thrall by the neck, and slashed at its throat. His knife glanced off the flesh as if it were made of iron. The thrall made a bubbling laugh and bit his hand.

A sword appeared, flashing with blue Arc Light. It slashed downward and split the thrall’s head in two. The thrall went limp and fell, trailing black vapor. It fell straight through the floor and vanished.

Silvan stood there, panting, a pair of electrical wings crackling from her shoulders. Her Arc blade was gripped in both hands. Madrid had forgotten that Silvan’s Light supercharge manifested as an element-shifted Dawnblade. She lit the passage like a spotlight. “I hate having to waste this much power on one thrall,” she said, “but the thing just wouldn’t die.”

“Heads up,” Jin said, “but there’s more. Normal ones this time, looks like.”

A pack of thralls swarmed down the passage at them. Madrid stood back and let Silvan mow them down with expert thrusts and sweeps of her sword. Jin saved ammo by punching the aliens, or crushing them against the walls with his armored shoulders. Madrid used his knife on the ones that sneaked by his team. 

Inside, he kept shivering. First that dead Guardian, then a thrall that was immune to everything but Light … and fell through the floor. He kept looking at the spot where it had gone, expecting it to come crawling back out, somehow. What was happening, here? He’d been on the Moon dozens of times and never seen anything like that. Maybe the other Guardians had been right to stay away. But Eris Morn was supposedly inside the Keep somewhere, and this was an entrance ...

They pushed forward, deeper and deeper underground. No more thralls appeared, but every time they rounded a corner, something darted away from their lights. Madrid’s heart was pounding with adrenaline, and these glimpses didn’t help.

The passage opened into the bottom of a ravine. It looked like the entire ceiling had caved in and been cleared, giving a glimpse of the star-studded sky. The Earth hung there at half-phase, its blue orb swirled with white. But silhouetted against it were more dead Guardians--Titans, Hunters, Warlocks. All of them slumped forward, heads and arms hanging, limbs dangling in shreds. All of them slowly turned their heads to look at the living Guardians.

Madrid halted, his breath catching in his throat. Silvan froze, too, clutching her rifle.

“Hey look,” Jin said, sounding as if he were forcing himself to remain calm. “More spirits. Don’t look at them, team. Keep going.”

Madrid tore his eyes away from the spirits and forced himself to follow Jin, who now led the way down the ravine. Silvan followed close beside him, one hand pressed to the side of her helmet. “Do you hear them?” she whispered.

Madrid shook his head.

“They’re begging for help,” Silvan whispered. “They’re saying that Crota is drinking their Light.”

“They must have died in the Great Disaster,” Madrid said, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t listen. The Hive are trying to drive us away. We must be near to discovering some secret of theirs.”

They plunged into another passage that wound away to the right. They walked for a few minutes, expecting attack. At Madrid’s shoulder, Rose murmured, “Madrid, I don’t feel so good.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I feel like when they caged the Traveler,” she said. “Like my Light is being stripped away.”

Up ahead, Jin turned a corner and swore--an exclamation of shock. Madrid and Silvan reached him and gasped.

The ravine fell away in a chasm miles deep. Filling this chasm was a pyramid that gleamed like black obsidian in the light from a rift in the roof.

They stared at it in silence for a long time. Their Ghosts disappeared, but Madrid sensed Rose’s fright. She was actually ill in the thing’s presence. He studied the pyramid, trying to understand it. When he looked at it, he couldn’t see it properly--all he saw was a blackness that threatened to choke out his Light. A stillness, the silence of endless sleep, the chill of outer darkness. He blinked and tried to use only his eyes. A gleaming black pyramid with geometric shapes across it. An indented strip around the equator full of glowing green lights … and utter stillness, the stasis of death. Standing in the presence of the thing was like experiencing isolation from the Traveler all over again.

“You see it,” said a voice.

The team turned. Eris Morn was walking toward them. She wore cloth armor the color of burned earth and a breastplate studded with brass rivets. As usual, she wore a blindfold over her eyes that could not stop the endless black tears down her cheeks, or the glow of three Hive eyes that pierced the thin fabric. In one hand she carried a small floating stone surrounded by a flickering green aura. And behind her drifted five spirits of dead Guardians, all of them stooping toward her.

Silvan raised a trembling hand and pointed at them.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Eris Morn said with an impatient gesture. “The pyramid manifests them. How long has it waited here? Did it anticipate this very moment?” She moved up beside the Guardians and stood looking at the pyramid.

“What--what is it?” Silvan asked.

Eris glanced at her. “It is … Darkness. Just as the Traveler is Light. It is the antithesis of the Traveler, its opposite in every way. It brought about the Collapse, and it will seek to destroy us again. Unless we can … understand it.”

“How?” Madrid asked. “I can barely stand to look at it.”

Eris gestured to the cavern around them. “We stand beneath the Scarlet Keep. The Hive erected it over the top of the pyramid. They seem to fear it … or worship it. More research is needed. I hoped to task Guardians with this request.”

“We might be able to help, ma’am,” Madrid said. “We were sent here to learn how to make a weapon of Darkness.”

Eris turned toward him, straightening a little. “Who sent you?”

“Mara Sov,” said Silvan. “I’ve been told that … it’s impossible.”

Eris gazed at the pyramid for a moment. “Not impossible,” she murmured. “But it will be difficult until we learn more.” She turned suddenly toward the spirits plaguing her. “Silence! I need to think!”

The spirits drifted backward a few feet.

She turned back to the Guardians. “The pyramid’s nightmares do not need sleep in order to plague the mind. Beware of them and their lies. My fireteam died here, and the pyramid raises their shades to torment me. If you have such anguish in your past, the pyramid will root it out and use it against you. Unless some .. protection may be devised.” She drew a deep breath. “Report this to the Vanguard. If there is a way to weaponize Darkness, it will be found inside that pyramid. But we cannot enter … yet.” She turned her head, as if listening. “I must leave.” She chanted a few words in the Hive tongue and vanished. The nightmares went with her.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Jin. The Titan led the way back up the passage. Madrid and Silvan followed.

“It saw us,” Silvan whispered to Madrid. “It knew we were here.”

“How?” Madrid said. “It’s so … still.”

“Like a hunting animal,” Silvan replied. “When it moves, it will be instantaneous and devastating. It read us, Madrid. It went right through my defenses like I was nothing. It must have read you and Jin, too. What nightmares will it send us?”

“Pictures of the Dreaming City?” Madrid said, forcing a laugh. “I don’t have any past trauma like losing a fireteam.” But even as he said it, he thought of Cayde, dying on a filthy prison floor, and wondered what would happen if he saw his old friend floating in the air in shades of red.


	5. Lunar base

The Guardians left the Scarlet Keep and found that the Guardians outside had gone, either back to their ships, or deeper into the Keep through another entrance. As Silvan, Madrid, and Jin mounted their sparrows, Silvan noticed a half-buried building in the side of a cliff some distance away from the Keep. “What was that?” she asked Madrid, pointing.

“Remains of the original moon base,” Madrid said. “Apparently back in the Golden Age, they built pretty extensively up here.”

They rode their sparrows far out of the way, trying to sneak around the Hive altars that were burning and active. Other Guardians fought the Hive around them, trying to keep the aliens from throwing themselves into the swirling flames that were not flames. Silvan had to avert her eyes. The Hive were not her field of study, and their depraved religion made her ill. Instead, she gazed at that building in the cliff. As they flew by it, she saw that it was only one of a whole series of buildings, but most had been buried in a landslide in the moonquake. On one old tank was emblazoned the Clovis Bray logo.

Her professional curiosity flared to life. What had the corporation been up to on the moon? Clovis Bray was responsible for the creation of the Exos, among many other things. They had been one of the biggest tech companies of the Golden Age, and one of the most unethical.

She swerved her sparrow toward the ruins. Over their team channel, she said, “Hold up a minute, guys. I want to look at this.”

Jin groaned. “I just want to report in, not stop and sightsee.”

“Go report in, then,” Silvan said. “I’m just going to take a look real quick.” She halted her sparrow, dismounted, and half-skipped in the low gravity to the largest corner of building that protruded from the rock. To her delight, there was a broken airlock door that stood open. She slipped inside. “Headlight, Bramble.”

Her Ghost activated his light and played it around the inside of the building. It had been some sort of office, with long-abandoned desks bolted to the floors, and the remains of old computers tumbled around the floors. The Hive must have looted the place and abandoned what didn’t interest them.

Behind her, Jin was muttering, “Does she do this often?”

“Always,” Madrid replied in an undertone. “It’s why she’s a Gensym Scribe.”

Silvan rolled her eyes and kept exploring. On a wall, she found a production chart that had been stuck on with glue and withstood the centuries. Bramble played his scan beam over it. “Some kind of research,” he said. “Looks like eight months worth of work is recorded … then it just stops. See here? The rest of this table is blank.”

“I wonder what happened,” Silvan mused. She reached the back of the room and found a staircase leading down into mysterious depths below. “Can I get down there, or is it caved in?”

Bramble opened his shell and sent out a pulse of Light, like sonar. In the flash, Silvan saw that the stairs went down multiple floors, and the walls were intact. There was more equipment down there, too--and cobwebs. Loads of cobwebs.

As Bramble closed his shell, she said, “Bram, are there moon spiders?”

“No,” Bramble replied. “Hive worms spin silk, too.”

Silvan shuddered violently. She had been badly bitten by Hive worms while in the Dreaming City. Their venom had been almost impossible to heal, and she had been in pain for weeks. Then Jayesh Khatri came by and used his healing rift on her. The overwhelming Light had neutralized the venom and her leg had finally healed. But at the thought of more worms, she felt that same pain again, burning like acid.

Bramble gave her an anxious look, picking up her worry. “I’ll go first, Silvan. I can detect any worms that might be around.”

“I’ll go with him,” Madrid said, squeezing through the broken airlock door. “Don’t need you getting bit again, right?”

Madrid had helped carry her to her ship in the Dreaming City after she’d been bitten. He’d been the one who made her team keep her in stacked healing rifts all the way back to Earth--stacked rifts that Jayesh had pioneered. Silvan scrutinized Madrid as he walked past her and descended the stairs. The Hunter knew Jayesh well, even to the point of instructing warlocks on his techniques. 

Silvan knew Jayesh as an overwhelmingly friendly, giving man, and kind to a fault. She knew Madrid as a strong, quiet man who gave his loyalty without fanfare, and stood by his friends to the last. What in the world could have happened between those two to so completely destroy their friendship? Did she really want to know?

From downstairs, Bramble called, “All clear, Silvan. There’s nothing alive in here. The Hive haven’t even bothered touching this place in years.”

Silvan descended the stairs with a surge of excitement. Madrid’s Ghost was out, her headlight playing over the equipment in the room. Bramble flew to Silvan and took his place at her shoulder. Together they explored the room.

It was only one room of a large underground facility. Hallways branched away in two directions. They had entered some kind of lab, with a huge electron microscope still occupying one corner. Binders full of lab notes had been piled on the floor, some of them with chewed pages from the worms that had been here. Silvan picked up several and opened them, paging through them. Observations about the things studied here--proteins, genetically engineered plant life, new types of hybrid crops to grow in the arcologies on the other planets and moons. Each binder seemed to have filled up within a week or two, and there were lots of them.

At the bottom of the stack, Silvan came upon a binder with a set of notes scribbled in slanted, hasty handwriting. She peered at them, and at the diagrams someone had sketched. “Madrid, look at this.”

The Hunter glanced over her shoulder. “Looks like some kind of artifact.”

The sketches showed a long, narrow sliver of some unknown material. The geometric patterns across it reminded her unpleasantly of the silent black pyramid. But this drawing was labeled as life sized, and was about six inches long. 

Silvan flipped through the binder. It was only half filled. The last entry was nearly illegible scribbles.

“Bramble, store this binder,” she said, closing it. “I want to look at it closer, on my ship.”

The Ghost obediently stored it in his memory.

“Something happened,” Silvan told Madrid. “The artifact screwed with their minds.”

“Gave them Nightmares, more like,” Madrid said. “How much further are we going? Jin’s standing guard outside.”

“I wonder if I can find that artifact,” Silvan said. “Talk about a Darkness weapon, right?” She set off down the left-hand hallway.

Madrid followed along behind her, gripping his rifle. “Silvan, if that artifact was a tiny pyramid, it’ll destroy you. Didn’t you notice that this place was abandoned after they found it? What if the nightmares killed them all?”

“Don’t be silly,” Silvan said. “There’s no bodies in here. You’d think there’d be skeletons all over the place if the artifact had killed them.”

She entered another room and Bramble played his light about. It flashed over another hanging, drooping figure that gleamed red in the light. Silvan gasped. Bramble trained his light on the nightmare. It lifted its head and looked at them. Instead of a Guardian, this figure was a woman in a lab coat. Her face was clearly defined, the eyes only a pair of empty holes. Silvan stepped forward, and the figure faded away and vanished.

“No bodies,” Madrid said, coming up behind her, “but plenty of nightmares. Looks like the pyramid knows exactly what happened.”

“You mean the pyramid thinks?” Silvan said, peering around for more unpleasant surprises.

Madrid shrugged. “The Traveler thinks. Why wouldn’t the pyramids?”

Silvan knelt and lifted the corner of a collapsed whiteboard. “So you believe Jayesh? About speaking to the Traveler?”

“I’ve seen him do it,” Madrid said shortly. “Creepy as hell.”

Silvan looked up at him, hearing the coldness that had suddenly entered his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Madrid said.

Silvan lifted the whiteboard and set it against the wall. It was covered in equations and notes. Bramble scanned it. Silvan watched him work, biting her lip, glad that her helmet hid her expression. She wanted so badly to ask more, but at the same time, she didn’t want to push Madrid any further. This was not the time to argue with a friend, not with nightmares lurking in the shadows.

“No good,” Bramble said. “This is calculations for a hydroponics solution they were giving the plants.”

“Do you think that artifact is around here somewhere?” Silvan asked.

Bramble opened his shell and sent out a pulse of Light. “Maybe,” he said doubtfully. “I’m picking up pockets of Darkness all over the place. They block my scans. It could be left over from the Hive. Or it could be artifacts.”

“Where’s the nearest one?”

“Down that hall, three doors to the right.”

Silvan set off in that direction, Bramble taking his place at her shoulder.

Madrid trailed behind. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Why not?” Silvan said. “I can’t build a Darkness weapon without collecting some Darkness.”

“We could just go to the Drifter and use his motes.”

“Yeah, but those don’t last very long. One of those chunks of pyramid would do perfectly. Let Mara Sov deal with it.”

“How do you know it's a chunk of pyramid?”

“I don't. But the markings were similar. In fact, I--” Silvan halted.

She had reached the doorway of another room. Floating in the middle of this room was a glowing ball of orange energy. It seemed to roll and writhe in place. Energy branched off it like lightning bolts--or like blood vessels suspended in space. Silvan stared and stared, keeping her psychic sense drawn tightly in, protected. The thing brushed against her mind, lighter than a breeze, but aware of her.

“What in the nine hells is that thing?” Madrid asked, walking up behind her.

“I don't know,” Silvan whispered. “I think it's alive.”

The energy ball rolled and flashed, something beginning to take shape inside it. A human figure. Silvan squinted. “Bramble, is this a Hive thing?”

“No,” he replied. “The energy readings are all wrong. It's reading as some kind of star core? But that's not right.”

The ball coalesced into the glowing outline of a human, the back arched and limbs spread. Energy pulsed outward, the veins in the air flashing red. The figure darkened, taking on mass and shape, and dropped to the floor, radiating heat from its birth into reality. It stood up straight and looked at them, trailing black vapor from its head and shoulders.

It was Jayesh Khatri. Silvan recognized his dark, spiked hair, his brown skin, the white warlock robe with a sash and buckle, the way he stood, and his slightly sheepish grin. “Hey, guys,” he said, waving a little. “Long time no see. Out of the Dreaming City, Madrid? Good for you.” He held out a hand and summoned his Dawnblade. Fiery wings sprang to life at his shoulders. He gestured at them with the sword. “I'm going to kill you, now. No hard feelings.”


	6. Nightmare crash

The nightmare Jayesh bounded forward, sword upraised. Silvan summoned her own sword and met him halfway. Solar blade met Arc blade in a clash of sparks. Jayesh grinned at Silvan for a second. “Nice guard. But you're not the one I want, Silvan. Don't worry, you have a friend waiting in the wings, too.” He shoved her backward with alien strength and walked past her, heading for Madrid.

The Hunter stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, in an attitude of absolute horror. His helmet hid his face, but Silvan heard the edge in his voice as he spoke.

“You're not Jayesh. You're a nightmare.”

“You're probably right,” the thing said with Jayesh’s voice. “Go on, Madrid. Kill me again. Look, I'm threatening you this time. You'd be justified. Dawnblade and everything.”

Madrid drew his scout rifle, but didn't raise it. “Jayesh, I … just … don't make me do this. You're from the pyramid. You're Darkness.”

“Not exactly,” Jayesh said cheerfully, slashing at Madrid. Madrid leaped backward, into the hall, and the nightmare followed. Silvan did, too, her own sword sparking in her hand.

“You killed Jayesh?” she called.

“No!” Madrid called back. “I don't know!”

“It's a little foggy, isn't it?” Jayesh said, following Madrid and thrusting his sword at his legs like a fencer. “Did I die? Or not? Either way, if you don't kill me now, I’ll kill you. I'll be polite. Rose can resurrect you in peace. I'll wait.”

“Leave me alone,” Madrid snarled. He fired two bullets into Jayesh’s chest. Like the nightmare thrall, Jayesh seemed to be made of iron. The bullets impacted on his chest and fell to the floor. He kept walking, smiling, eyes fixed on Madrid without blinking.

“You never told her how you killed me, did you, Madrid? That's the only way you can kill me, now. Meanwhile, I'm going to make you regret leaving the Dreaming City.”

Madrid stood still for a second. Then he disappeared in a transmat sparkle. In Silvan’s radio, he said, “Get out of there, Silvan. Transmat to your ship.”

Silvan didn't answer, too busy watching the nightmare. She expected it to come after her. Instead, the thing dropped to all fours and ran up the staircases like a huge insect, the limbs bending in ways a human’s couldn't. It was so _fast_. It moved angrily, intently, as if it knew where Madrid had gone and was homing in on him.

“Jin,” she said, “this nightmare is coming right at you.”

The thing disappeared into the upper floor, leaving Silvan alone. A second later, Jin yelped, “What the hell was that? Some guy just ran by on all fours, like a Fallen Vandal.”

“A nightmare,” Silvan said, climbing stairs at a slower pace. “Madrid, get to orbit. It's coming after you.”

As she climbed, she had time to notice the creepy shivers running through her. The dark lab seemed to loom around her, full of the hostile unknown and more nightmares, all leaning over her, waiting for her to look behind her. Her thoughts constantly looped back to that nightmare of Jayesh.

“Did Madrid kill him for real?” Silvan thought to Bramble. “He said he didn't.”

“I don't know,” Bramble replied. “Maybe he only tried to kill him? It looks like the pyramid tapped into some hidden guilt, there. We don't have any dark secrets for the pyramid to exploit, do we?”

“Not that I can think of,” Silvan replied. “I've never tried to murder my friends.” She thought of the real Jayesh, the way he’d beamed when she asked him to sign her copy of his book. Why in the world had Madrid tried to kill him? It didn't make sense.

“Bramble, send a message to Jayesh Khatri, will you? Ask him if Madrid ever tried to kill him.”

“He may not want to talk about it,” Bramble replied. “Madrid doesn't. And really, who wants to relive being betrayed by a friend?”

“Just ask,” Silvan replied. “It may be the only way we can get rid of nightmare imposter Jayesh.”

She reached the outer door and stepped out into the harsh sunlight on the moon’s surface. It was a relief to see daylight again, and to see Jin standing there in his bulky, scratched armor. It was a welcome touch of normalcy.

“You're really you, right?” Jin said, peering at her. “Not some bug thing disguised as a Guardian?”

“It's really me,” Silvan said. “Nightmares have this black smoke pouring off them.”

“I did notice that,” Jin said. “That one that came out and ran off toward our ships.”

“It’s after Madrid,” Silvan said. “Come on, let's transmat and beat it there.”

Their Ghosts transmatted them to where they had left their ships. Madrid’s cruiser was just lifting off. It roared away across the rocky plains and headed for the sky.

Silvan drew her auto rifle. “When that nightmare gets here, I'm going to soften it up.”

“I'll help,” Jin said. “Is it a person?”

“It's a fake version of Jayesh Khatri. Do you know who that is?”

Jin shrugged. “Wasn't he that nutcase a few years ago who claimed he climbed up into the Traveler and it told him stuff?”

Hot rage flashed through Silvan from head to foot. She had to draw a deep breath and let it out slowly in order to control herself. “Yes,” she said evenly. “He was telling the truth.”

“Not according to every scientist in the City,” Jin said. “But whatever. Why is a nightmare of him chasing Madrid around?”

Silvan wanted to snarl something else in defense of her hero, but now wasn't the time. She carefully thought through what she was going to say. “Madrid and Jayesh used to be on the same fireteam. But they had a falling out, and I guess the pyramid is playing on Madrid’s guilt.”

“Weird,” Jin said. “Good thing I don't have any buried guilt, or the other pyramid would have got me.”

“What other pyramid?” Silvan said, staring at the Titan’s face shield. His glowing eyes were just barely visible behind it.

“A pyramid on Mars,” Jin said. “I helped Rasputin destroy it. But seeing this one, I wonder if the other one was a decoy of some kind. This one is much worse. But the nightmares are similar to what I saw inside … these wraith things. Can nightmares be killed?”

“We killed a thrall,” Silvan said. “But I had to use my Light sword. This nightmare Jayesh is tough. Bullets bounce off him.”

“I guess that's how we tell the real one from the fake,” Jin said with a laugh. “The real one can bleed.”

They waited, scanning the rocks and hills, waiting for the nightmare to arrive. A group of Guardians were setting up a command post in the distance, kicking up dust and throwing down temporary flooring. But after fifteen minutes, there was no sign of the nightmare. There was also no reply from the real Jayesh.

“Bramble,” Silvan thought, “any response?”

“Nothing,” her Ghost said. “The message was received, but nobody has said a word, Guardian or Ghost. I told you he wouldn't want to talk about it.”

Silvan gazed at the sky, searching the stars for the orbital path of most jumpships. “Do you think Madrid will come back? Or did he run?”

Bramble hesitated, then replied, “I'm picking up his Ghost’s signal, and they're still in orbit. But there's some kind of interference …” He trailed off to a murmur. After a moment he said, “Uh … Silvan … I don't want to alarm you, but … could it be possible that the nightmare boarded Madrid’s ship?”

Silvan stiffened. “You think that's where it is?”

“I'm picking up that strange energy reading from his ship. It could kill him.”

Nearby, Jin interrupted their conversation. “Looks like Madrid’s coming back. What's he doing? His approach vector is way too steep.”

Far overhead, a ship glinted among the stars, trailing vapor from its engine. Madrid was returning during a full burn.

“What's he thinking?” Silvan muttered. “Cut the engine!”

The ship dropped lower and lower, taking shape as a long, sleek cruiser. It flew in a straight line, as if unattended by a pilot. The engine finally stopped a thousand feet from the ground. The ship’s nose angled upward, belatedly trying to pull out of its killer dive, but it was too late. The ship vanished behind the hills a few miles away. Debris and smoke mushroomed into the air.

Silvan used one of her father’s favorite swear words, summoned her sparrow, and sped toward the crash. Jin did the same.

* * *

Madrid had escaped to the safety of orbit, leaving the nightmare far behind. He sat in the pilot seat and watched the moon slowly revolving far below, its white surface pockmarked with craters. It was a beautiful, if desolate view. From here, the marauding Hive were too small to see, and the seas and craters of the moon held a certain serenity. But it didn't soothe his nerves. He rubbed a gloved thumb up and down the flightstick, a habit he had picked up in the Dreaming City. 

“Rose,” he said, watching the moon. “Why did that nightmare take Jayesh’s shape?”

“I don't know, love,” she said, floating over the copilot’s seat. “If the pyramid exploits past trauma to demoralize Guardians … it makes sense that it would choose him to terrorize you.”

Madrid hunched in his seat, brooding. “He's the last person I wanted to see again, Rose. So of course he torments me.” He sat in silence for a while. Then in a low voice, he said, “Did I kill him?”

The little robot kept her eye fixed on the instruments.

Madrid gestured with both hands. “I stabbed him, sure. I dragged him toward the chimera. Then Kari shot me in the head. When you brought me back, the chimera was dead and the team was recovering. Jayesh looked fine to me.”

Rose didn't reply, but her red rosebud shell ticked back and forth nervously.

Madrid had asked Jayesh how he’d killed the chimera, when they'd unwillingly worked together in the Dreaming City. Jayesh had given him that lopsided smile he used when concealing pain. “It was chewing on me. Taking my Light. Nom nom.” He had interlocked his fingers like the teeth of a monster, a childish gesture to make light of absolute horror. All he would say was that he had used his Well of Radiance and its sword. Madrid knew no other details. If Jayesh had died in the encounter, he had been revived before Madrid’s Ghost raised him.

Rose seemed to know what he was thinking. “I don't think he died, love. If he had, he wouldn't have come back. The chimera would have consumed his Light.”

“Then why does the nightmare say I have to kill him again?” Madrid growled. “Throw him to another chimera? There's no Taken on the moon.”

“It's probably to goad you into doing something you'll regret,” Rose said. “Or to upset you and keep you from fighting effectively. It probably--” The Ghost spun around and peered down the corridor at their backs that led down the middle of the cruiser. Then she vanished. In Madrid’s head, she said, “It's here.”

Madrid twisted around in his seat. He had turned the lights off in the ship’s aft section to conserve energy. Back there in the dark, the outline of a human form glimmered red.

The hair prickled on the back of his neck. Madrid was a Hunter, and he knew when he was being stalked. He unbuckled his flight harness so he could deal with the problem.

When he looked again, the Nightmare was closer, advancing up the corridor toward the cockpit. It drew its fiery sword and was illuminated as Jayesh, smiling in a toothy, predatory way that was completely wrong for his personality.

Madrid whipped out his knife and climbed out of his seat. He met the nightmare in the doorway, parrying the burning blade. Jayesh stabbed at him in short thrusts. There wasn't room in the narrow doorway for much swordplay.

“Get off my ship,” Madrid growled, trying to disguise how hard his heart was pounding.

“I don't think so,” Jayesh replied, still smiling. “I also think you're not taking me very seriously. But you never did, did you? Always blowing me off. Never listening when I talked about the Traveler."

"You're not the real Jayesh," Madrid snarled through his teeth, shoving him backwards. "You're a fake."

"Drawn from your memories," said the nightmare. "I'm as accurate as you remember." The voice began to change, deepening. The face changed, too, the nightmare reshaping itself into another form. "You have other memories. Other people you've wronged. Like me."

Madrid stood face to face with Uldren Sov who still gripped a fiery sword. The Awoken Prince had a bloody bullet hole in his forehead, and his yellow eyes swirled with a miasma of blackness. "I was unarmed," he whispered. "That was not justice."

Madrid shoved the nightmare backward in a burst of rage and horror. He retreated until he bumped into the instrument panel. He spun, grabbed the throttle, and threw it open.

The ship’s huge engines ignited at once. Used for breaking orbit, the engines had enough thrust to crush the ship’s occupants. Madrid braced himself against the lurch of the sudden acceleration. But the nightmare was flung backwards, down the length of the ship, until it collided with the rear wall. Despite the roar of the engine, Madrid fancied he heard the thump of a body striking plastic paneling.

He let the thrust push him into the pilot seat, where he inspected their course trajectory. He’d run for Venus, put some distance between himself and the pyramid. Surely it couldn't manifest nightmares a couple hundred million miles away, could it?

The dread of the nightmare’s presence was his only warning. Madrid started to turn, but the nightmare was right behind his seat. The burning blade stabbed through the seat with violent force, through Madrid’s back, and out his chest. His heart stopped and he died within seconds. The nightmare of Jayesh grinned behind him, back to its original form.

Rose caught Madrid’s spark and was forced to appear, her shell open, Light field active. She prayed that it would protect her from the nightmare. But it didn't threaten her. As it had promised, it merely waited for her to resurrect her Guardian.

“Go away,” she told him.

Jayesh grinned and didn't move.

Rose poured Light into Madrid, healing his wound, and resurrected him.

Madrid returned to life fighting mad. He whipped out his knife and swung at the nightmare, flowing with the thrust of the engines. The nightmare blocked his blows with its sword. Madrid was so close that he could see its eyes--lifeless and hollow. The real Jayesh had a glint of blue Light in his eyes all the time, like a reflection with no source. The pyramid had either forgotten that detail, or couldn't simulate it. Fear fueled his anger to greater heights. How dare this thing take Jayesh’s form. How dare it attack Madrid like this, from behind, fighting like a cowardly Fallen. He buried his knife in the Nightmare’s throat.

The nightmare stabbed him with its sword at the same time. They stood there, staring at each other, each in the throes of pain from a mortal wound.

“I am your true nightmare,” Jayesh said.

Behind them, the instrument panel lit with red lights. The collision alert sounded.

“Madrid, we’re going to crash!” Rose cried in his head.

Madrid wrenched away from the nightmare, blood running over his breastplate, and grabbed the flight yoke. The moon’s surface filled the viewscreen, all rocky hills and impact craters. His ship was about to become the newest crater. Madrid cut the engines and pulled back on the yoke, trying to drag the ship’s nose upward. But their trajectory had been taking them straight down at ten thousand miles an hour. Their momentum was too great to overcome.

“Rose, stay safe!” Madrid exclaimed. He braced himself, though it would do absolutely nothing to save him from the forces of impact. At least it would kill the nightmare.

The ship impacted on the moon in fire, dust, and flying debris. Madrid’s cruiser was reduced to an unrecognizable ring of shattered metal. Fire flashed and rolled upward in a ball of smoke, spreading out in the thin atmosphere.

When Silvan and Jin arrived, a short time later, the only sign of life was a Ghost’s tiny light, hovering over the debris where a blood spatter marked Madrid’s resting place. Rose’s eye turned toward the fireteam in relief.

“You survived,” Silvan exclaimed, throwing herself off her sparrow. She ran to the Ghost and extended a hand blazing with Light. It flowed into Rose’s Light field, empowering her to resurrect her Guardian that much faster.

“Thank you,” said Rose softly. “I’m having to rebuild him from scratch.”

Jin arrived and gazed at the crater. He whistled softly. “Poor bastard. That was a nice ship. What the hell happened?”

“The Nightmare was on the ship with us,” said Rose.

Silvan and Jin exchanged a quick look. 

“So,” said Silvan, “they can teleport.”

“I doubt it’s teleportation,” Jin said. “They can probably manifest wherever they please.”

Madrid’s body took form in a blaze of Light beneath Rose’s hovering sphere. It filled out and grew solid, taking on mass, reassembled from his scattered particles. In another minute, he drew a breath and opened his eyes, sitting up on the blasted rock. He nodded to Silvan and Jin as he climbed to his feet, but said nothing. Instead, he turned in a circle, taking in the remains of his ship. Rose flew to hover above his hand.

“Weapons?” he said at last.

“Scout, sniper, sniper,” she replied. “And five hundred ammo synth for each.”

“Weapon cache?”

“Gone.”

“Food supplies?”

“Gone.”

“Sparrow?”

“Stored.”

Madrid stood still, but his shoulders slumped. “Ninety percent of what I owned was stashed on that ship.”

“I know, love,” Rose said. “We’ll work hard and regain what was lost.”

Silvan laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Madrid patted her hand in acknowledgement. “That Nightmare caused this crash. If it’s not dead, it’s going to wish it was.”

He turned and picked his way out of the crater, Silvan following at his heels. In silence they mounted their sparrows and flew back to Luna Base.

* * *

By the time they arrived, the Guardians who had been building camp had established a decent-looking base of operations. Field equipment had been arranged on the temporary flooring, and redjacks stood here and there, guarding the perimeter. Several warlocks fiddled with a series of machines that would generate a magnetic field capable of locking in oxygen, providing a bubble of higher air pressure and more comfortable temperatures for a base camp.

In the midst of this bustle, Eris Morn stood alone, gazing across the landscape to the scarlet keep. Five nightmares floated around her, their limbs in tatters, yet still recognizable as the Guardians they had once been. The living Guardians gave her and them a wide berth. Nobody wanted to be the next person to suddenly have an entourage of horrors following them around.

Madrid pushed his way onto the flooring, near Eris, and sat down heavily. He leaned his arms on his knees and closed his eyes.

Eris Morn turned and regarded him, her masked green eyes inscrutable.

Silvan and Jin walked up, too. Silvan went straight to Eris. “Ma’am, he’s being haunted by a Nightmare. It just killed him and wrecked his ship. Is there anything we can do?”

Eris said nothing for a long moment. She gazed at Madrid, then at Silvan, then at her own nightmares. “Perhaps,” she said slowly, “if good memories replaced the negative ones … that perhaps might make a difference.”

Silvan looked at the nightmares surrounding Eris. She had been so worried about Madrid, she hadn’t had time to think about what Eris must be going through. The nightmares still wore helmets, but they moved a little now and then, giving the impression that they were speaking, probably directly to Eris’s mind.

“Is there anything we can do for you?” Silvan asked softly.

Eris glanced at her and smiled a little--a pained, bitter smile. “As I said, good memories to replace the bad. But that is not your immediate concern, is it, Guardian Silvan? You are to make a weapon of Darkness.”

Silvan nodded, accepting this change of subject. “I found a drawing of a tiny pyramid fragment in the old Luna Base laboratory. It’s shaped exactly like the big one. Do you think that could be used to create a weapon?”

“It would be … dangerous,” said Eris, turning her gaze toward the scarlet keep once more. “Would it be wise to place the entire Traveler within a weapon? No. A small pyramid is one part of the whole. No wonder the people here went mad and died.” She drew a long breath. “But if we could locate such a fragment … we could perhaps draw off some of its power and store it. Much as Light is manipulated, so could Darkness. In theory.” She turned toward Silvan again. “Beware, Guardian. Nightmares haunt all who set foot here. Protect your mind. I sense your strength … and also your weakness.”

Silvan remembered hearing Eris’s words in her head, and nodded. Ruined, ex-Guardian that she was, Eris had learned to use Hive magic. Perhaps the stolen eyes gave her psychic powers. Silvan leaned toward her and said in a low voice, “The Hive here are powerful. I saw a witch, all in red, just before the tower and the earthquake.”

“Hashladun,” Eris replied. “Her mind is formidable, honed upon hatred, strengthened upon vengeance. Guard yourself from her. We have many enemies here, and I fear this is only the beginning.” She turned away, signaling that the conversation was over.

Silvan sat down beside Madrid. A moment later, Jin sat on his other side. The fireteam simply rested there for a while, supporting their Hunter in silent solidarity. Silvan felt the shock and misery radiating from him like smoke. She laid a hand on his arm. “Eris said to replace the bad memories--”

“--with good ones, I heard,” Madrid interrupted. He sighed deeply and bowed his head.

“What’s the matter?” Jin said. “Don’t have any good memories of that guy?”

Madrid shrugged.

“Not surprised,” Jin said. “Lying little weasel. You know he never apologized for saying he climbed up into the Traveler? A lot of people wanted him to come out and confess, but he never did. No wonder you’re having nightmares.”

Madrid rose abruptly and walked away.

“What’d I say?” Jin said, turning to Silvan.

Silvan climbed to her feet, too. “I think you should shut up.”

“Okay, okay,” said the Titan, following suit. “What’d I say?”

Silvan didn’t trust herself to answer.


	7. A visit to the library

Memories weren't the problem, Madrid reflected as he walked. He had plenty of good memories of Jayesh--befriending the kid, helping him improve his fighting techniques, seeing his power and courage grow. No, it was Madrid’s own guilt that had caused the nightmare to appear. None of it was Jayesh’s fault--it was entirely Madrid’s own.

Worse, the nightmare had taken Uldren's form for a moment. No other nightmares had changed shapes like that. Why didn't the pyramid just stalk him with Uldren and Jayesh? Why did it combine them? And worse, how did he find good memories of Uldren Sov? The man had been obnoxious before the Battle of Saturn, and unhinged afterward. And as a Guardian … Madrid didn't think about him as a Guardian.

“Rose,” he thought, “how does one rid themselves of guilt?”

“Forgiveness, maybe?” Rose suggested in his head.

Madrid ground his teeth. “What do I forgive Jayesh for? His stupid kindness? As for Uldren … not going there. He deserved what he got."

“Why don't you try forgiving yourself?” Rose said.

Madrid looked inside himself, at the calcified anger, guilt, and shame. He'd carried it for so long that it had hardened like a fossil inside him. “That's not possible. Not after what I did to Jayesh."

“Madrid, love,” Rose said, “you were manipulated by Riven of the thousand voices. Left to yourself, you would have never laid a hand on him.”

“Is that the truth?” Madrid thought bitterly. “Or did Riven only reveal what was already there, in my nature? I wanted to kill someone to avenge Cayde. I couldn't fight Uldren, so I turned on my team. Light, Rose. I threatened you, too, remember?”

“That wasn't you,” Rose said. “It was the voices.”

His Ghost had forgiven him almost the moment it had happened. Even now, she occupied a space in his mind, a constant warm, friendly presence. How did she do it? How did she overcome her fear of him, even when he was losing his mind to the whispers?

She sensed his thoughts. “Because I love you, Guardian. Perfect love casts out fear.”

Madrid stood still, gazing across an open plane to the ridges and gullies that led down toward the Temple of Crota. His shadow fell long and black beside him. “But can love cast out guilt?”

“Guilt stems from fear, doesn't it?” Rose replied. “Aren't all emotions based in either fear or love?”

Madrid tracked that guilt down to its root, and indeed, there was fear there--fear that the whispers had been right. Fear that he might do it again. Fear that his Light was irreversibly corrupted. It was so deeply rooted that he despaired of ever letting go of it. From the same root sprang the worry about Silvan being imprisoned in the Dreaming City until her Light burned out. She had believed in him enough to make such a foolish bargain. And by the Light, he would make sure she kept it.

There was another part of that root fear that he didn't acknowledge--the memory of Cayde-6's last moments. The quiet, seething hatred he still carried for Uldren Sov. It was there, as strong as the day Cayde died, and Madrid refused to admit it existed.

He stood there until Silvan caught up with him. He greeted her with a nod. “Come on, let's hunt Darkness.”

Silvan started to speak, but cut herself off. “Oh. Right. Let's go, then.”

Jin was coming, too. Madrid summoned his sparrow--at least he had that to his name, out of everything he’d lost--and set out for the temple. His team followed.

* * *

Silvan was glad to fight Hive, tracking them through the halls of the ancient temple. It felt good to slay Crota’s brood and avenge the countless Guardians who had met their final end in this place. She wielded her auto rifle and her electrical sword. Whenever they met a witch, flying in the air and scratching at her mind, Silvan pulled out her fusion rifle. The witch disintegrated in a flash of fire and a puff of dust, the irritating psychic attack ending immediately.

They looked for the deepest Darkness they could find. The temple had plenty, always torture rooms or brood lairs, sacrificial altars or obscene laboratories. But nowhere could they find an artifact that held Darkness, itself. The evil was concentrated in the aliens, in their blood and bone, and the worms that drove them on.

Silvan hesitated beside a dead Hive Knight, studying the hardened bone armor. Dredgen Yor had harvested such bone as a trophy. He’d infused his hand cannon with it and created Thorn, the weapon that drank Light. She could do the same … but that would set her on the same path of sorrow that Dredgen Yor had followed. The bone would consume her mind, then her soul. In the end, she would be unrecognizable as Silvan Nerisis. She would be one more Dredgen, a sucking void, craving more power, yet empty of all things good.

She turned from the corpse with a shudder. She’d seen Shin Malphur descend that path, step by cautious step. He had changed, grown harder. A killer, now, although he claimed only to hunt enemies of the Light. She would not let herself become like him. Her Light would not be tainted.

She couldn't take off her helmet to wipe the tears that blurred her eyes. She had to content herself with blinking them away. Poor Shin. He had been such a sweet boy, so lost and wounded. He’d never gotten over Jaren Ward’s murder. Blast it all, she didn't need to think about this right now. Darkness had dire consequences, yes yes. She had to focus and move on.

A shadow stirred to her left, behind a pillar. Silvan turned, raising her auto rifle.

A Guardian in black stepped into view. He wore dented armor wrapped in leather, a black, tattered cloak falling around him. A hand cannon rode at his hip, and an aura of red-tinged blackness surrounded him.

“Hello, child,” said the smooth, chilling voice of Dredgen Yor.

Silvan flinched sideways until she bumped into Madrid. “Another Nightmare,” she whispered.

Madrid turned and peered across the dimly-lit hall. “This is an ugly one. Who is it?”

“Dredgen Yor,” Silvan said with conviction. “I met him at Twilight Gap.”

Madrid instantly covered the nightmare with his scout rifle. On his other side, Jin did the same.

“I know that name,” Jin said quietly. “I've worried for years that his Ghost might try to resurrect him.”

“No Ghosts needed when you have a Darkness pyramid,” Madrid muttered. “Kill it.”

All three of them opened fire. The nightmare melted away, but not as if it had been killed … it simply disappeared to avoid the attack.

As Silvan lowered her rifle, movement caught her eye. The hall they were in had an upper gallery forty feet overhead. Peering down from this gallery was the bone-clad Hive witch that had so damaged Silvan’s mind during the earthquake, complete with the bone-halo behind her head. Her glowing dome of eyes was fixed on them, her teeth bared in a grimace of hate. Thralls flanked her, watching the Guardians. As Silvan gazed up at them, they retreated out of sight.

“Hashladun,” Silvan said, pointing. “She was watching.”

“How do you know their gross names?” Jin asked, reloading. 

“Eris told me,” Silvan said. “Hashladun is a powerful psychic.”

Madrid glanced at Silvan. “We’d better leave, then. Plenty of other places to farm Hive.”

Silvan nodded, chills making the back of her neck prickle. The witch was out of sight, yet her mind probed at Silvan’s, touching her defenses one at a time, feeling them out. Silvan imagined steel doors, stone walls, cage bars, and walls of flame. She held these in her mind as they began the long trek back to the surface.

By the time they sighted daylight from the entrance, their fireteam was no longer alone. Two nightmares drifted along behind them--the ragged Dredgen Yor, and the red-tinged Jayesh.

“Uh, Madrid,” Silvan whispered, “is Jayesh taller than you?”

The Hunter glanced over his shoulder. “The real one isn't.”

The Nightmare had grown a foot taller than Madrid, broader, more powerful. As they looked at it, it grinned and waved.

“Why is it bigger?” Silvan cried in a whisper. “What happened to it?”

“Maybe the crash powered it up,” Madrid said. “It was on my ship. Let's get out of here. Maybe we can leave them behind.”

The nightmares fell behind when they mounted their sparrows and shot away across the moon’s rough terrain. When they arrived at Eris Morn’s outpost, they thought they were safe. But as they stepped into the bubble of atmosphere inside the shield, Jin said, “Oh, not you again.”

Jayesh and Dredgen Yor floated in the air, red shadows that bent the light around them. They stared at Silvan and Madrid and followed them across the encampment. Other Guardians flinched away from them.

“Eris, you have to help us,” Silvan begged, catching the woman’s hand. “These nightmares! Why are they growing?”

Eris turned and studied the figures from behind her blindfold. After a long silence, she said, “What have you been feeding them?”

“Is that some kind of joke?” Madrid snapped, watching the nightmares for any hostile moves. They were somehow more sickening floating there in what had been a safe zone.

Eris pulled her hand away from Silvan’s grasp. “I do not joke,” she said, glancing at her own attendant nightmares. “They grow as they are fed. Hatred. Fear. Grief. These all feed their power. Nightmares are born from memories, yes. But they are fed as you dwell on them.”

Silvan gulped and looked at Madrid. "I guess we'd better learn to starve them."

"Easier said than done," Madrid said, glancing over his shoulder at the phantoms. "Morn, any progress on dealing with the pyramid?"

"I have other Guardians exploring the Moon," Eris replied, turning to gaze across the landscape toward the scarlet keep. "They touch much Darkness. Many secret plans of the Hive. A plan … perhaps one will present itself." She turned to them, stooping a little, as if trying to avoid the notice of her own nightmares. "The Hive have dwelt here for centuries. They learned to insulate themselves from the pyramid's influence. I believe we can do the same. A team is looking for a way near the World's Grave, should you desire to help."

"I hope they don't mind nightmares," Silvan muttered.

Eris waved a hand. "All Guardians have nightmares here. But not all Guardians can overcome them. Their whispers are more insidious than those of a worm or dragon. Much harder to bear."

Silvan nodded. "We'll see about helping the others."

Eris nodded and turned away.

Silvan turned to go and found Dredgen Yor floating a foot away from her, his crooked teeth bared in a grin. She cringed backward and collided with Jin. 

Jin steadied her. "Careful, now. Creepy stalker yours, not mine. Get it? Yors?"

"Not funny," Silvan said, edging sideways to escape both the Titan and the nightmare. She disliked them both equally at the moment. “Where is the World’s Grave?”

“This way,” said Madrid, pointing northward. “There’s a cave entrance up this way.” He purposefully didn’t look at the Jayesh specter. All three of them mounted their sparrows and sped away, and the nightmares drifted after them.

* * *

The World’s Grave was the library of the Hive where they stored the knowledge stolen from the worlds they had pillaged and consumed. The walls were honeycombed with alcoves and shelves full of tablets, scrolls, books, data cubes, and other methods of information storage. Thralls regularly worked among the shelves, cleaning and sorting, as a Wizard floated nearby, snarling orders. If a thrall dawdled, they were killed and their body fed to an ogre chained outside, so the thralls worked diligently, indeed.

When Silvan, Madrid, and Jin arrived, they were greeted by a female warlock who hushed them and ushered them into an antechamber. "Don't disturb the Hive!" she whispered, indicating her tablet. "I'm observing them to learn their catalog system. Do you know how much knowledge is stored down there?"

The other Guardians looked at her a moment, nonplussed.

"Gensym Scribe?" Silvan said.

"How'd you know?" said the warlock.

Silvan bumped fists with her. Then she turned to her companions. "If the Hive know how to insulate themselves from the pyramid, it's down there. Let's wait a bit."

"Oh, you're here for that, too?" said the warlock. "Good. We can help each other. Now hush."

Silvan gestured for her companions to use their team channel. Everyone switched over to talk in private.

"I'll watch our back trail," Jin offered, taking up a position at the mouth of the alcove. "Madrid, you're the sniper. If the cleaning crew down there looks up, make them regret it."

Madrid pulled out his rifle and used the scope to observe the thralls and wizard. Nobody spoke for a few minutes. Then Jin said quietly, "What kind of ship you looking for?"

Madrid glanced up at the Titan. "As a replacement? Probably another cruiser. It'll be a while before I can afford one, though. Second-hand cruisers run a hundred, hundred fifty thousand. That's without a jump drive."

"You won't earn much glimmer with no ship," Jin said. "How about a single pilot jumper? I know a guy who's looking to sell. Got a nice little single-engine Arcadia."

"I don't know," Madrid said. "My first ship was an Arcadia. I spent more on maintenance than I did flying her."

Silvan listened to this conversation, reading over the warlock's shoulder as she took notes. It was almost comfortable, hiding there in the dark, cold alcove, listening to them talk about ships. It made the looming nightmares and pyramid less threatening. Life went on, even after a disaster. She could almost ignore the presence that was beginning to take shape behind her, forming out of the gloom itself.

"There is no protection from Darkness," Dredgen Yor's smooth voice whispered in her head. "This mission has no hope. Even the Hive embrace the sorrow."

Silvan threw up mental barriers between herself and that voice. But it came from inside, not outside. The voice was that of her own fears, and there was no silencing those. "I don't want to listen to you," she thought savagely.

"But you have listened to me for years," said the nightmare. "The pyramid gave me a form, not a voice. And you know that there is no stopping either of us. Deep down, you know that I'm right. The Traveler is dead and your people doomed. Why else would the Awoken Queen ask for a weapon of Darkness?"

Silvan tried to blot out that voice by focusing on the conversation at hand. "Yeah, I'd spend months out past the rim," Madrid was saying. "Gets awfully strange out there. I was always glad to come back to the inner planets, where it's warm."

"I've been out pretty far," Jin replied. "Hit Alpha Centauri once, but that was a freaking long trip. Relatively screwed me up bad. Came back ten years before I left, had to fight the Red War again."

"You're kidding."

"Wish I was. I don't recommend it. Hey, the goons down there are finishing up."

"Good," said the warlock, rising to her feet. "Once they're gone, our Ghosts can hunt through the archive."

The thralls ran out on all fours. The wizard lingered behind for a few minutes, arranging the shelves just so, before it swept out, muttering to itself. Silvan closed off her psychic sense as it passed, keeping her mind blank and quiet. The Guardians slipped out of hiding and darted down into the World's Grave.

Silvan let out Bramble to hunt for data. Madrid sent out Rose, and the warlock sent out her Ghost. But Jin stayed a short distance away, alert and watching the entrances. For a while they searched in silence, occasionally whispering to each other. The room flickered with the Ghosts' scan beams.

"Here's something," Bramble said in Silvan's head. He indicated a scroll covered in Hive runes. "Roughly translated, it talks about this thing called the Lecturn of Enchantment. The Hive use it to create armor and weapons that resist the … 'the chaos and madness that exist between thought and fear'. Sounds like the nightmares."

"Great," Silvan thought. "Where do we find it?"

"It's here on the Moon somewhere," Bramble replied. "I'm taking all the data to sort through later. There's a ton of Hive nearby and they're getting closer." He glanced around and nervously spun his shell before returning to scanning the scroll.

Rose and the other Ghost flew up and downloaded the data, too. As they did, the other warlock whispered to Silvan, "By the way, I'm Callie."

"Silvan Nerisis," Silvan whispered back. "Trying to beat the nightmares?"

"Yes, but not for me," Callie whispered back. "My whole fireteam went psycho and got locked up by the Praxic Order. I'm trying to help them."

"Do you have nightmares?" Silvan whispered.

"Not yet," Callie replied. "But I see them around, begging for help. It's sad."

_Sad_ wasn't how Silvan thought of them, but maybe Callie didn't have any personal trauma for the pyramid to exploit.

As they finished scanning, Jin said, "Heads up!" He began firing up the hallway. Thralls poured into the room, running at the Guardians.

Madrid and Callie joined the fight, but Silvan stood back, hands pressed to her temples. That wizard was coming back, and it was singing a horrible, screeching song of death and despair. It bored into Silvan's skull and wormed past her mental defenses. It hurt like knives and broken glass, burned like the touch of cold steel in the dead of winter.

"Silvan!" Bramble called, his voice sounding far away. "Sing!"

"Sing what?"

"How about one of those hymns to the Light you had me download?" Bramble played the recording. Silvan sang along, very softly, concentrating on the words.

_ I want to be in the Light as you are in the Light _

_ I want to shine like the stars in the heavens _

_ And I'll follow right behind, true love I will find _

_ Because all I want is to be in the Light. _

The words and melody drove the wizard's awful noise out of her head. Silvan pushed her song outward, forcing it into the wizard's mind. Its song dissolved into incoherent shrieks of rage. It soared toward the ceiling, then rained necrotic blasts down at Silvan.

Silvan dodged behind a series of shelves carved from the rock. The wizard stopped its attack, unwilling to harm the archives. It focused its fury on Jin, instead, who pulled out a shotgun and blasted away at it. He popped the energy shield the wizard had conjured around itself.

Madrid swung out of his own hiding place, aimed his sniper rifle, and put a slug through the wizard's head. It expired with a final shriek, its body dropping to the floor as the trailing robes fell away in dust.

Silvan sighed in relief and rose to her feet. "Let's get to safety so our Ghosts can analyze this data."

"Eris Morn might be able to help," Callie said. She had an irrepressibly cheerful voice, and even her movements were constantly happy. "She knows everything about the Hive, even how to use their magic. Some warlocks think she's an abomination, but I think she's fascinating."

As the Guardians began the hike back to the surface, Silvan said, "I used to be scared of Eris. But she taught us how to break Crota, even after everything she'd gone through. I'd like to make friends someday, but she doesn't let anyone in."

"No," said Callie thoughtfully. "She really doesn't. But have you seen all her nightmares? If I had that many dead people on my conscience, I wouldn't want any more friends, either."

Silvan glanced sideways at Madrid. He walked with his head down, his helmet concealing his expression. But the half-formed specter of Jayesh trailed after him, high up, along the ceiling, out of reach. Dredgen Yor was up there, too, inconspicuous but always present. Silvan deliberately didn't look at them.

They reached the Moon's surface and emerged in the middle of a firefight. Guardians and Hive were battling each other, but the Hive were attended by a huge nightmare ogre that the Guardians couldn't scratch. The Hive rallied behind it, using it as a shield, as the ogre leveled its death gaze on the Guardians. Several of them dropped dead at once.

Silvan reached for her arc blade, but there was no need. One Titan summoned a Void shield and threw it at the ogre. The shield flew like a Frisbee and crashed into the ogre's compound eye, blinding it. The ogre roared.

Silvan emptied a magazine into the ogre. As her trigger clicked on empty, the monster's head burst into flames and it collapsed.

The Titan approached them, his movements quick and agitated. "Hey, Silvan. Its Claney Beamard."

"Oh, hey!" Silvan exclaimed, shaking his proffered hand. Claney was a defender Titan and one of the most steadfast men Silvan knew. She thought of him as a second father after he'd helped protect her during Twilight Gap. "Come to fight Hive?"

"Sort of. Celeste is missing." His voice was low and tense. "She disappeared right after the earthquake. Have you heard from her?"

"No, sorry," Silvan said in sudden horror for Claney's adopted daughter. "I didn't know she was out here at all. We'll keep an eye out, okay?"

Claney nodded and moved off. As he went, he was trailed by a nightmare that resembled Celeste in her Hunter cloak.

"Can we help him?" Silvan muttered to Madrid and Jin.

Madrid shrugged. "If we can. It might be best if we find this Lecturn of Enchantment that can silence nightmares. It would help us all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claney Beamard belongs to JSMulligan and is used with permission. Read his Destiny fanfics! They're excellent!


	8. Old friends

Back at Eris Morn’s base camp, a number of tents had been set up. A particularly large one was a barracks, with rows of beds inside. However, when Silvan glanced inside, every bed was empty. Other Guardians were gathered into a command tent, where Ikora Rey was lecturing and pointing at various maps projected by her Ghost.

Eris Morn still stood off by herself, gazing at the Scarlet Keep, surrounded by floating red nightmares. But as Silvan approached, she realized there was one less than usual. Eris was fingering a long chain of hand-carved beads. She looked up with a rare smile as Silvan stopped beside her.

“A Guardian recovered these,” Eris said, holding them out. “Sai Mota carved them for me. She even taught me to carve them, myself.” She drew the necklace back before Silvan could touch them. “As I dwell on Sai’s generosity, the nightmare has faded, that voice falling silent. I believe that she has forgiven me.” She lifted her masked eyes to look at Earth, where the Traveler was barely visible behind the globe. “I believe the Light has forgiven me.”

Silvan stood there awkwardly, unsure what to say. Instead, her Ghost materialized and flew forward, twirling his purple shell. “Excuse me Ms. Morn, but we found something. It might help.”

Eris turned to look at the Ghost. Her lips tightened, as if holding back some emotion. “Yes?” she said, her voice very even.

Bramble projected the data he had stolen, with translations neatly arranged alongside each image. “The Hive have an instrument called the Lecturn of Enchantment. They use it to infuse their armor with an anti-pyramid aura. It’s why there’s no nightmares harassing the Hive, only us. If we could find the Lecturn--”

“We could make use of it,” Eris said. “Yes. I could attempt to decipher its function.” She reached out with two fingers, as if about to touch Bramble’s shell, then withdrew and returned to fingering the beads. “I will give thought as to its location. I may be able to touch the minds of the high priestesses. Meanwhile, I suggest that you rest. I have been standing here for nineteen hours and you have been running for all of it.”

"That long?" Silvan murmured, looking up at the Earth that neither rose nor set. The sun moved, but very slowly. The only way to tell that time was passing was because Earth's globe was entirely dark, with only a thin blue rim along one edge. As she gazed at it, she felt the weary ache in her bones, the heaviness in her eyelids. Sleep sounded so good right now.

"Is it all right to use the barracks?" Silvan asked.

Eris didn't look up. "They have been prepared for you. But you may find it … uncomfortable."

That was all Silvan wanted to know. She entered the tent, selected a bed at the far end, pulled off her helmet and boots, and lay down. She was asleep within minutes.

* * *

Madrid saw Silvan enter the tent. He turned to Jin. "Looks like time for a break. Have any rations?"

"I'll transmat some from my ship," the Titan replied. "You don't think those nightmares will gank us in our sleep?"

Madrid didn't look at the lurking Jayesh. He felt its presence all the time, like the constant irritation of a festering splinter. "They're here to demoralize us, not kill us. Not directly."

"That one crashed your ship."

"I crashed my ship," Madrid said heavily. "I allowed the nightmare to distract me." 

Jin's Ghost transmatted in two ration packs and two vacuum-ready bottles of water. He and Madrid sat on a couple of rocks to eat.

As Madrid activated the heat pack in the MRE, his nightmare whispered, "You are a murderer and a betrayer of friends. You don't deserve this fireteam."

"Shut up," Madrid growled aloud. He pulled off his helmet, inhaled the Moon's thin, cold air, and started on the food. Nearby, Jin ate, too, while keeping an eye on him.

"Why don't you have nightmares?" Madrid asked him after a while. "Everybody else seems to have a couple."

"I honestly don't know," Jin said slowly. "I have monsters in my past, too. I guess … it might be because I've already made peace with it."

"Made peace how?" Madrid said, lifting his head to stare at the Exo. "Did you ever stab your friends in the back?"

Jin blinked at him, then dropped his gaze to his tray. "Yes," he said simply.

Madrid gestured at him. "Then why are you not haunted?"

"Well, first off, Exo," said Jin, tapping his green-painted head. "I resurrected with memories of my past life. Turns out I had memories stashed everywhere, data chips and stuff. Engraved a keyword on my arm, even." He pushed back a little of his undersuit to show the edge of the word _Aestivalis_ on his wrist. "My poor Ghost got dragged into all kinds of nonsense. But she stuck with me, no matter how I tried to kill everyone around us. Other Guardians helped me out. In the end, I faced up to who I'd been and what I'd done. My Guardian name is Valis, and my old name was Jin. So I go by both. Jin Valis."

"Huh." Madrid took a bite before answering. "Maybe that's my problem. I haven't made peace like I thought I did."

Jin gestured to the Jayesh-specter. "If he's still alive, why not talk to him?"

"I can't," said Madrid. "He doesn't need me around."

"He said that?"

"No."

Jin shrugged. "Facing the real guy has got to be better than hauling a nightmare around."

Madrid shrugged. He was not going to discuss this right now or any other time.

Silvan didn't come out of the tent, and Madrid began to look anxiously at the entrance. When he finished his meal, he went to the tent to find her. Silvan needed to eat. She'd used a lot of Light powers, and those tended to burn through a Guardian's energy.

Silvan was asleep on a bed at the far end when Madrid entered. The nightmare of Dredgen Yor floated above her, staring down into her face. Madrid remembered a superstition about cats stealing away a baby's breath. Who knew what a nightmare might steal. He strode down the row of beds.

Before he reached her, Silvan suddenly screamed and hurled herself off the bed, flailing her arms as if beating off an attacker. The nightmare floated above her with a wide grin, avoiding her blows.

Madrid caught Silvan as she nearly careened through the tent wall. "Hey, easy there. Wake up, Silvan."

"Madrid?" Silvan gasped, clinging to him. "I was having a horrible dream." She wheeled around and shook a fist at the floating specter. "It was you doing it! Get out of here and leave me alone!"

The nightmare drifted backward a few feet, but didn't disappear.

Silvan turned back to Madrid with a snort. Her red hair was tousled, and there were dark smudges under her eyes from exhaustion. "How long did I sleep?"

"About fifteen minutes," said Madrid, watching as the Jayesh nightmare oozed through the side of the tent. "I don't think we'll get much rest in here."

"I wondered why no Guardians were resting," Silvan muttered. "Think they'd leave us alone in orbit?"

Madrid shook his head.

"Right," Silvan said. "It followed you there. Blast it all." She furiously rubbed her eyes, then jammed her helmet back on.

"Come eat something," Madrid said. "Jin's got decent MREs."

"Chicken?" Silvan asked hopefully. "I don't like the pork ones."

"Yeah, he has chicken."

A few minutes later, Silvan was eating as fast as she could shovel food into her mouth. Madrid stood guard against the nightmares and tried to ignore the weariness growing on him. They needed to find the Lecturn of Enchantment, as well as build a weapon of Darkness, and figure out a way to defeat the Pyramid. It all seemed huge and impossible. Even with a meal inside him, he had trouble feeling hopeful. He gazed at the Scarlet Keep in the distance and hated the sight.

Jin walked over to Eris Morn and talked for a moment. He handed her an MRE, then hunted up a chair from one of the tents. Eris sat down and slowly opened the meal pack, as if she wasn't certain what food was.

Jin returned, his metal face flexed in a grin. "She's got a lock on the Lecturn thing. I told her I owed her an MRE and she cashed in right then."

"Where?" Madrid asked.

Jin summoned his Ghost, who projected a holographic map of the area. "Looks like we get to explore the Hellmouth, team. We have to find not just the Lecturn, but this thing called a Cryptoglyph. Hope the Hive store them together."

"The Hellmouth," Madrid said grimly, checking his scout rifle. "We would be headed down there."

Jayesh approached in his peripheral vision. Madrid ground his teeth. The Hellmouth was bad enough without stupid nightmares whispering to them. Maybe he could kill it if he struck hard enough. Bullets had bounced off, so he'd try blunt force trauma. He waited until the thing was a few feet away, then he spun and clubbed it with his rifle butt.

The rifle hit with a satisfying thud and knocked the nightmare flat in the dust. As Madrid stood there, waiting for it to float back up again, a Ghost appeared and hovered over the prone body.

"Thanks for that," said the Ghost sarcastically. "He already didn't want to come up here, and now he'll be angry, too."

"That was the real one?" Madrid exclaimed.

Behind him, Jin burst out laughing.

Silvan leaped to her feet. "That's the _real_ Jayesh? And you _killed_ him! Oh no, poor guy!" She dashed to the prone warlock and knelt beside him, extending a hand to the Ghost's Light field. "Phoenix, right? Here, have some extra."

"Thanks," said the Ghost. He pulsed light into his Guardian, who sat up, one hand pressed to a dent in his helmet.

"What the hell was that?" Jayesh exclaimed. "Madrid, you still have a score to settle with me? We can have it out, right now." He scrambled to his feet and drew Sturm and Drang, hand cannon and sidearm, and held them at the ready.

"No, wait, I'm sorry," Madrid said. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and held up both empty hands. "I thought you were a nightmare. See it, over there? It's taken your form."

Jayesh gazed at the hovering nightmare for a long moment. Slowly the tension seemed to leave him. His arms lowered to his sides. Then he holstered his weapons, pulled off his helmet, and rubbed a fading bruise on his head. He had brown skin and wavy black hair. As he turned to Madrid, that familiar glint of blue Light sparkled in his eyes. His robes were good tough plasteel weave in the Ego Talon style, the Warlock eagle logo stitched across the left side of the chest.

"I heard it was bad up here, but not like this," he said. "Nightmares, now. No hard feelings. Just … try not to kill me again." He held out a hand, and Madrid shook it.

Now that the real Jayesh stood there, Madrid realized that his voice sounded different from the nightmare's. His voice was slightly deeper, with the faint musical lilt that Sunsingers developed over time. Madrid could barely look him in the face. He was responsible for the majority of pain and suffering in this man's life, and he'd just murdered him on accident. And he'd never wanted to see him again.

"Oh, Jayesh Khatri, I'm so glad you're here!" Silvan squealed. When Jayesh offered her a hand, she threw her arms around him instead. "The nightmares have been _awful._ But you don't have any, right?"

Jayesh extricated himself from her grasp, staggering in the low gravity. "Uh, I don't know yet. I'd better have a word with Eris."

"No need," said Jin, stepping forward. "Hey there, I'm Jin Valis. We just got a mission from Eris, so let me fill you in."

Jayesh studied the Exo. "Aren't you from that Aestivalis project?"

"You've heard of me?" Jin said, purple eyes brightening.

"I saw the mission report from Mars," Jayesh said. "Glad you're here. What's the mission?"

Madrid and Silvan watched Jin fill in the warlock.

"If Jin mentions the Traveler thing, I'm going to blow his head off," Silvan muttered.

"Since when did Jayesh start taking charge?" Madrid replied. "Did you see that? How easily he won everybody's good will?"

"He always does that," Silvan murmured. "He's the nicest guy in the Vanguard."

"Nice like a weapon," Madrid said. "Watch him, Silvan. See how he does it. He's gotten even better at it since I saw him last."

Silvan gave him a confused look. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Madrid smiled with half his face. "You don't know him very well."

Silvan gave him an offended look, but said nothing else. They listened as Jin repeated the details of the mission to the Hellmouth.

"Right," Jayesh said, nodding with his helmet under his arm. "Glad I came, because you'll need a healer." He had his Ghost store away Sturm, and brought out a gorgeous hand cannon worked in spiral strips of metal like flower petals. "This is Lumina," he said, tilting it back and forth to show off the metalwork. "It draws on my Light to fire projectiles that heal my team. Works even better on the fly than a healing rift."

Silvan gestured at Jayesh. "See?" she squealed to Madrid. "He made a _healing gun._ He's amazing!"

Madrid stepped up to Jayesh and took the gun. Under cover of examining it, he said in an undertone, "She has a thing for you."

"I know," Jayesh moaned softly. "Keep her away from me."

Louder, Madrid said, "Nice craftsmanship. Yours?"

"Kari's," Jayesh replied. He met Madrid's gaze for a second, then looked away. "We worked together to salvage this gun from a … a relic. She redid the outside. I charged it with Light."

Madrid wanted to ask how Kari was. But Jayesh's refusal to meet his eyes told him everything. Kari had not forgiven Madrid. Her anger would intensify if she knew that Madrid had killed him again, even by accident. And Madrid had wronged Jayesh again. Blast, he could never get this right.

Madrid returned Lumina. "No point in trying to rest when there's nightmares around. Let's hit the Hellmouth, team. Jin, you take point. Silvan, you're with me. Jayesh, rearguard."

"Aw," Silvan said with a laugh. She turned away to reload her auto rifle.

Jayesh mouthed _thank you_ behind her back. Madrid acknowledged with a wink.


	9. Cryptoglyph

Battling Hive with Jayesh on his team was strange and jarring for Madrid. He'd wallowed in self-loathing ever since Jayesh had left the Dreaming City without his Dawnblade. Jayesh had tried to leave on a friendly note, but Kari … Jayesh's wife Kari, whom Madrid had known for a century, would never forgive Madrid. She hadn't said much, but he knew her well enough to see the white-hot rage boiling beneath the surface.

He'd buried all these facts and forgotten about them. But seeing Jayesh again brought it all back. Worse, the nightmare whispered every detail to his mind, making sure no failure was left out. 

Opposed to these dark thoughts was the fierce joy of fighting as a team again. Madrid had run so many missions with Jayesh that they slipped back into their old alternate support roles without having to say it. Jayesh healed, Madrid sniped, and Silvan and Jin attacked the enemy head on. They communicated with hand gestures or a single word, or even a nod. It didn't matter that Hive thralls constantly circled them, trying to flank. It didn't matter that wizards trailed behind them, conjuring shriekers into existence. It didn't matter that the shriekers, single eyes in a bony shell, rained death on their heads with their stare. Jayesh's healing circles were steady and strong, illuminating the dark halls and staircases of the Hellmouth. They provided enough light for Madrid to snipe shriekers and stop wizards in their tracks.

The Hellmouth was an entire city drilled deep into the Moon's crust. Instead of building upward into skyscrapers, the Hive had burrowed downward, level upon level. It was impossibly vast, with great caverns hollowed out for worship or battle or breeding, libraries, laboratories, weapons foundries, and more.

Eris Morn had given them coordinates to the Catacombs, an area steeped in darkness under the shadow of the buried pyramid. She had warned Jin that the area was so dark that they were in danger of having their Light quenched. And as they descended broken staircases and stepped across unguessably deep gaps, Madrid felt it weighing on him. It wasn't only the constant presence of the nightmare that began pressing on his mind. It was his Hunter instincts: the sense of being watched, of being stalked by a predator.

"Rose, keep scans at full," he thought.

His Ghost amplified her reach, broadening the coverage of the map in his helmet HUD. "I'm having trouble tracking enemies, love. I'm detecting flickers of movement behind us, but I can't identify it."

"Nightmares?"

"No. Something else."

The constant attacks stopped and the Guardians walked on through the gloom. Their Ghosts floated at their shoulders, illuminating the way with their headlights. Jayesh walked a little ahead of Madrid, hand cannon at the ready. Ahead of him walked Silvan, with Jin in the lead in his heavy armor. Silvan kept looking back, her helmet's face shield reflecting the light.

"Scared?" Madrid said quietly.

"Yes," Silvan replied, equally quietly. "There's something back there."

"They're waiting to see what we're after," Jayesh said softly. "They know their Darkness is--"

They rounded a bend and entered the huge cavern where the pyramid lay entombed. Light from a crack in the surface filtered down, gleaming across its obsidian-smooth side. Nearby, ahead of them, the cavern wall flared out in a great stone shelf. The cliff wall had been carved into a temple with pillars, arches, and burning braziers at the doorways. Before it stood an altar of stone, stained black with blood and other unknown liquids. Floating above it was the Cryptoglyph.

Madrid avoided looking at the pyramid and focused on the Cryptoglyph, instead. It was a cylinder about a foot long, with a sculpted metal point at one end. Around the cylinder's body were five rotating rings, each etched with different Hive runes. It floated in the air, point downward, above the altar, ready to be used in arcane Hive rituals. Beneath it was a basin filled with a greenish, waxy substance, the rim engraved with the same runes.

Jin and Silvan started forward. Madrid did, too, glad to see the end of their quest. But he bumped into Jayesh. The warlock stood rooted to the spot, staring up at the pyramid. Lumina dangled at his side, nearly slipping from his fingers.

"Don't look at it," Madrid said. He circled and placed himself between Jayesh and the pyramid. "Look at me. It will make you black out, all right? Focus on something else."

"What--what is it?" Jayesh gasped. He raised his gun and gripped it in both shaking hands, as if preparing to fight the monolith. "It's--Hive?"

"Older than them," Madrid said, pushing Jayesh along. "Get moving. The Hive will sense weakness."

Jayesh automatically moved along, tearing his gaze from the pyramid. "But what--what is it? It's so dark! It's dampening my Light!"

"That's what we're here to find out," Madrid said. "It makes the nightmares, and this Cryptoglyph can make gear immune to them. Didn't Jin explain this?"

"He left out the giant pyramid of darkness part," Jayesh said.

"Hey, I thought he knew," Jin said over his shoulder. "Ikora's up here losing her mind over it, so I thought she'd briefed the warlocks."

“I think she may be trying to come up with a solution before she tells everyone,” Silvan said. “Not that there’s a solution to the anti-Traveler, but you can’t blame her for trying.”

They reached the altar and the floating Cryptoglyph. Its dials rotated by themselves as they approached, almost as if it sensed their presence. Silvan started to climb up on the altar, but Jin caught her by the collar. “Oh no you don’t, sweetheart. This thing is probably boobytrapped to hell. Let the guy in plate armor go first.”

Silvan stepped back, gripping her gun. “If the Hive want you dead, you’ll be dead.”

“I’m a Guardian,” Jin said, looking up at the artifact, then at the altar’s surface. “Death is an inconvenience, not the end.” He leaped lightly up on the altar and touched the Cryptoglyph’s handle.

Instantly the trap was sprung. The jaws of a trap closed around the altar and Jin--four arms of flickering soulfire that snared him by his Light. Jin yelped and punched one of the arms, then cursed and nursed his hand. “Told you it was boobytrapped to hell!”

Hive screeched from the direction of the temple, and thralls began pouring out. Accompanying them were three witches, floating in the air like wraiths. One of them was a huge female clad in red chitin armor.

“It’s Hashladun!” Silvan cried, cowering backward behind the base of the altar.

“No, actually,” said her Ghost over the com, “this one reads as Besurith, Hashladun’s sister. She’s just as bad.”

Madrid glanced at the trap holding their Titan, then studied the approaching wizards. The lesser two would be tricky to put down, because their shields were already active, flickering with fire in bubbles around them. But the red one--Besurith--had a different kind of energy field circling her: a smooth, silvery field he’d never seen before. Maybe it was powered by a source inside the temple. The trap holding Jin would eventually burn out--he’d seen those kind. They could only hold a Guardian for a few minutes, but the fight would be over by then.

His team was comprised of himself and two warlocks. Jayesh was staring at the pyramid again, hands limp at his sides, unaware of what was happening around him. Silvan was reloading her auto rifle and muttering under her breath. If Jayesh would pull himself together and support them, they’d have a chance.

Madrid grabbed Jayesh’s shoulder and wheeled him around, putting his back to the pyramid. “Focus! Keep us healed!”

Jayesh shuddered and lifted Lumina. He looked around at the wizards, the approaching thralls, and Jin in the cage. “What just happened?”

“The crap just hit the fan, that’s what happened!” Silvan exclaimed. She sprang out of hiding and hosed down the thralls with her rifle at waist level.

Madrid drew his knives and went to work as the thralls swarmed them. In a second they were surrounded by ravenous, flashing teeth and claws. Eyeless faces screeched and snarled. Madrid stabbed and slashed, black blood spattering his gloves and arms. He darted here and there, protecting the warlocks. He was interested to see that Jayesh was able to shoot the thralls with bullets with Lumina, but when he turned his gun on his friends, it fired balls of brilliant Light. One struck Madrid in the chest. A burst of warmth spread over him as if he’d been hit with hot water. It sank into him and mended the bites and bruises the thralls had inflicted. For a second, it even dispelled the lingering pressure of the nightmare, which hung overhead, watching.

“Cursed thralls!” Silvan yelled.

Madrid whipped out his scout rifle. The three witches clustered together, working some magic in unison. A group of thralls huddled beneath them. One by one, their heads began to glow with a sickly green light. Hugging themselves, as if holding in immense pressure, the thralls began walking toward the Guardians.

Madrid popped the first one in the head. It exploded like a bomb, shaking the ground and rattling his teeth from the concussion. The other cursed thralls scuttled sideways behind pillars and other blocks of stone. Jayesh was able to shoot one from his vantagepoint. It exploded behind its cover and set off a companion. The blast was deafening. Silvan danced sideways to flank the others, firing in short, accurate bursts.

Madrid switched to his sniper rifle and targeted one of the lesser witches. One heavy slug broke its shield. As it darted for cover, he led it with his sights and fired at where it would be. His bullet intercepted its head with deadly precision. The witch fell apart into fragments, the delicate body shattered. 

Silvan threw a grenade at the other witch. The blast broke its shield, and Madrid put a bullet in its head before it could hide. As he lowered his rifle, he glimpsed the third witch, Besurith, just as she threw a death bolt into his face.

It was difficult to tell if death bolts were an actual ball of energy, or if they were a manifestation of the witch’s hatred. Either way, it blasted Madrid’s helmet apart and snapped his neck. He hit the ground, expecting to die, blinded with pain.

But Jayesh was a professional healer. Madrid landed in the middle of a healing rift. Instantly he was blasted by multiple Light bullets, in addition to his Ghost’s healing. More death bolts pelted his body, burning and scorching, but the healing Light pushed back against the distilled hatred. For a second, Madrid was aware of the enormous friendliness and affection of the Light as it mended his neck and skull. As another Lumina blast struck him, he felt Jayesh’s steadfast loyalty, too. No matter what he’d done to the kid, Jayesh would heal him because Jayesh was generous like that.

As soon as his body could function, Madrid rolled over and sprang to his feet. Rose rebuilt his helmet around his head, working hastily, fusing the pieces back together a little haphazardly. He took a second to adjust the fit, watching the remaining witch. Silvan had been firing at it, but now was crouched behind the altar, arms curled around her head. She was gasping for breath and nearly sobbing. 

“It’s doing something to her!” Jayesh exclaimed. He ran forward and planted himself in front of Silvan, throwing down another healing rift. He shoved Lumina back in its holster and began to sing.

Madrid knew that Jayesh had retrained as a Sunsinger, but he’d never seen him in action. He’d heard the battle song of a Sunsinger before, but hearing it from his friend was a slight shock. Every warlock had a different song. Some sang words, while others sang an aria, conveying only mood. Jayesh sang in a language Madrid had never heard before--a language filled with irrepressible cheer and liquid, flowing notes. Fire began to lick over his clothes and spread into wings at his shoulders.

Besurith screamed and covered her ears. In the distance, the pyramid itself seemed to loom higher and blacker, as if the song of the Light was offensive to its very existence.

Silvan raised her head and slowly climbed to her feet. Jayesh’s song was more than an exercise of his power--it was running interference against the witch’s psychic attack. Silvan raised her auto rifle.

Madrid touched her shoulder. Under cover of Jayesh’s voice, he murmured, “Keep her distracted. I’m going into the temple to find the source of her shield.”

Silvan nodded and fired a couple of shots at Besurith. They sparked off the silvery energy shield.

Madrid wrapped himself in Void Light and vanished into the shadows. It was easy to do in a place so dim. He dodged away across the area and circled around behind the witch. She was so close that he could count the bone spikes on her shoulders and back. But he couldn’t breach the shield, so indoors he went.

It wasn’t hard to find the power source. The temple had a single central room. In the middle of this room was a huge green crystal growing from a bed of Hive filth. The crystal pulsed with the same sickly glow as the Hive thralls. Two Knights stood on either side of it, swords drawn, ready to give their lives in defense of the crystal. Behind it, in an alcove, stood a stone table covered in tools and strange artifacts that flickered with Hive magic.

This might be a good place to find a core for a Darkness weapon. Madrid slipped around the perimeter of the temple and arrived at the alcove without the knights spotting him. The table was covered in strange objects. He exchanged rapid fire thoughts with Rose.

_Which have power?_

_Orange thing. Purple thing. Black thing. Not that one. That one._

Madrid swept up the objects and shoved them into the ammo pouch on his hip. Then he turned to deal with the crystal.

Hive were well known for storing energy inside crystals and using them to power all manner of spells. But as Madrid crept up behind the first Knight and cut its throat, its life energy burst out of it and swirled into the crystal. That was odd. Weren’t Hive supposed to send energy up the chain to higher-ranking Hive, with the topmost ones being the gods? Madrid shrugged off the question. Leave the theorycrafting to the warlocks.

He dispatched the second Knight, taking a vicious sword slash to the ribs that left him doubled over in pain. As his Ghost healed him, Madrid staggered to the crystal and stuck a grenade to it. Then he hobbled for the entrance, moving faster and easier as the wound mended. The grenade exploded behind him, shattering the crystal. Shards hit the walls around him with a colossal crash of breaking glass.

He reached the entrance just as the cage holding Jin collapsed. 

The two warlocks were sheltering behind the altar as Besurith poured her fury and hatred upon them. Her shield was gone, and she hadn't appeared to have noticed. When the cage failed, Jin went from standing on the altar, a helpless prisoner, to a lightning-wreathed ball of Light. He shot straight up in the air, described a narrow arc, and dropped on top of Besurith like a meteor.

Madrid took shelter inside the temple doorway as the Titan and witch hit the ground. The stone cracked. Bone armor shattered. Fragments of chitin and smoke blasted through the temple door. Madrid chuckled in satisfaction, shielding his face.

As silence fell, Jin stuck his head in the doorway. "Madrid! Don't make me come rescue your sorry ass."

"I'm right here," Madrid said, stepping out of the shadows. "I'm the one who should be rescuing you." The two men clasped hands in a mutual expression of triumph. They’d faced a fight together and won. That would bond their fireteam faster than any number of arguments or social gatherings. Then they headed outside to check on the rest of the team, stepping around the splattered remains of the Hive witch on the way.

Quiet had settled over the area. No movement registered on their motion trackers. It was as if the slaying of Besurith had temporarily stunned the Hive. Jayesh and Silvan were reloading as their Ghosts investigated the Cryptoglyph.

"Definitely take this basin along," Phoenix was saying. "The Cryptoglyph needs the stuff in it as fuel."

"What is that junk?" Silvan asked, standing on tiptoes to peer at the waxy substance.

"Some kind of essence," Bramble said. "Hatred, I think."

“How do they … you know, I don’t want to know,” said Jayesh. “Somebody transmat it. Phoenix’s memory is full and he can’t.”

Silvan set Bramble to breaking the Cryptoglyph and its basin down into data and storing it away. When Madrid and Jin walked up, Silvan hugged them both. “You guys were great! Madrid, your technique has gotten better since we last ran together! And Jin, that was amazing!” Her voice rose to a squeak. “You pancaked Besurith! And she’d been telling me how powerful she was and how I was no match for the sword logic. Guess you showed her!”

“Yep,” said the Exo, raising a fist. “I’m better at the sword logic than she was, ha!”

“I don’t think she was running on sword logic,” said Madrid. “Her shield was powered by a crystal in there. I killed a couple of Knights and it absorbed their energy.”

“Pff, the Hive don’t run on anything else,” Silvan said. “That’s what powers their magic, is a jillion little guys constantly dying and passing energy up the chain.” She turned to her Ghost as he stored the Cryptoglyph and began work on the basin. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Bramble said. “Don’t distract me. This essence is slippery stuff.”

Jayesh hadn’t joined in their conversation. He had turned and was again looking at the pyramid. He’d been in the middle of holstering Lumina, and his hand kept missing the holster. Madrid walked up, put an arm around his shoulders, and forcibly turned him away from the pyramid. To take Jayesh’s mind off the Darkness, Madrid said, “Why is your Ghost’s memory full? Did you bring your whole arsenal?”

Jayesh shook his head a little to clear it. “Uh. No, I packed a lot of supplies I thought we might need. Well, yes, and some weapons and ammo.”

“I’m so full,” Phoenix groaned. “I mean, data doesn’t have mass, but you know what I mean.”

The basin finally disappeared, and Bramble returned to Silvan. “Got it!” he exclaimed. “Let’s get out of here.”

At that moment, the lights went out. They had only been a series of glowing crystals around the perimeter of the stone shelf, but they all went dead at once. The only illumination came from the distant crack in the ceiling that shed a muted glow down upon the pyramid.

Silvan said suddenly, “Besurith has other sisters. Voshyr and Kinox, as well as Hashladun. They’re crazy with rage right now, and they’re calling to something … guys, what is Zulmak?”

In the distance, far below, something roared. Its voice was deep and bestial, echoing off the walls. As the noise died away, more sounds echoed--the rasp of claws on stone, and heavy footfalls drawing closer in the darkness.

“Run,” Jin said suddenly. “My Light is gone, team. They cranked up the Darkness on us. Run!”


	10. A run through the dark

Silvan and Jin darted away. Madrid turned to run, but Jayesh remained motionless. He’d once again turned to stare at the pyramid, since it was the only thing visible in the gloom. Madrid had the sense that if he let him, Jayesh would stand there, entranced, until this Zulmak thing arrived and ate him. He grabbed the warlock’s arm and dragged him back up the path. Jayesh awoke and ran with him.

“Thanks,” he gasped. “I can’t … the pyramid’s calling to me, Madrid. I can’t block it out.”

Their Ghosts shone their lights on the path ahead, winding its way upward through the solid rock. The lights of Silvan and Jin bobbed ahead of them, casting long shadows behind them. Beyond this fragile speck of illumination lurked the Hive and the Darkness. It seemed to loom over them, blacker and more menacing with every step they took.

They rounded a corner and emerged in a cavern drowned in darkness. A bridge lay across it, which they had crossed earlier. Now as their lights played along it, they picked out the nightmares of dead Guardians--hundreds of them. The spirits hung in the air over the bridge, and the Guardians’ lights only picked out portions of the bodies: here a leg falling apart into fragments, there a helmet. Tattered cloaks and torn robes billowed into the light, stirred by an unfelt wind. The dead Guardians stared down at them, judging, condemning, like an audience attending a play they disliked. As the fireteam pushed forward, the nightmares drifted aside, not quite touching them, but the sense of dislike grew into outright animosity. Bitterness and hostility poured into the minds of the Guardians.

Of the whole team, only Madrid had already faced and fought a nightmare. He was also the only one who had heard Riven’s whispers and been driven over the brink by them. As new whispers began in the depths of his mind, he responded with the defenses that Silvan had sensed back in the Dreaming City. He simply thought, “No.” He held that word between himself and the whispers. “No.” It was a single negative, a refusal to listen, a focal point. The whispers persisted, but he no longer paid attention to them. That lingering No held them off. His Ghost Rose sensed it and added her own strength, shielding his mind with her Light.

The fireteam pushed forward, Jin in the lead. He moved at a jog, cradling his hand cannon and peering through the nightmares for enemies. Of the group, he alone seemed entirely unaffected.

Next came Silvan, hands raised as if to ward off a blow. She cringed this way and that, ducking around the condemning, staring nightmares. "Just let me through," she whimpered. "Stop it, just let me through!"

Jayesh halted for a second and drew a sharp breath, as if about to scream. Then he followed behind Silvan, keeping his head down, looking only at the bridge. His Ghost helpfully directed his light at Jayesh's feet, lighting the way. Madrid brought up the rear, holding that No in his mind against the psychic assault.

When the chanting voices began in the darkened distance, Madrid and Jin reacted first. "Run!" they both yelled.

The motion trackers in their helmets began to flicker red, indicating approaching enemies. Thralls shrieked before and behind them, pouring onto the bridge.

"Get in the air!" Madrid yelled, and leaped.

All Guardians gained the innate ability to jump superhuman heights, aided by their Light. Warlocks, who wore the lightest gear, could float like graceful birds. Hunters could run and jump multiple times in midair, creating an extra stairstep for themselves out of Light. Titans used Light to lift themselves, like a jetpack. They tended to come down like a ton of bricks on the heads of their enemies.

All four Guardians leaped and soared along over the heads of hundreds of angry thralls. More nightmares drifted out of the Guardians' way, revealed by their lights at these new altitudes. They must have been surrounded by clouds of them. Jin landed first, using his weight to flatten a group of thralls who clustered together. Light flashed and bodies flew off the bridge in every direction. Madrid landed next, ran a few steps to maintain momentum, and leaped again.

Silvan and Jayesh flew all the way to the end of the bridge. They landed right in front of a witch that appeared suddenly in the darkness. Like Hashladun, she wore red chitin armor and had a glowing dome instead of three eyes. She screamed in such fury and hate that Madrid saw stars. To Jayesh and Silvan, who were nearest, it was like a concussive blast. Jayesh staggered, holding his head. Silvan wilted to the ground, arms wrapped around her helmet. Jayesh tried to pull her to her feet, but he could barely stay standing himself. Madrid aimed his scout rifle at the witch and fired as he descended. His shots sparked off the witch's shield, but she retreated into the gloom, already conjuring black magic with both clawed hands.

Madrid hoisted Silvan off the floor. She was limp, unconscious. "Shoot her with your heal gun, kid."

"I can't," Jayesh said shakily. "My Light is gone. Nothing left to shoot."

Madrid slung Silvan over his shoulder. "Do I need to carry you, too?"

"Uh, no," said Jayesh with a sheepish grin in his voice.

"Then fly like a warlock and I'll see you at the surface."

Jayesh ran a few steps and leaped into the blind darkness, following Jin, who was still moving. Madrid followed, lugging Silvan. 

They climbed a steep path away from the bridge, then entered a hall lined with pillars and arches. Their lights illuminated dense cobwebs laced between the pillars and a floor trampled and smeared with the tracks of the denizens of the evil city. Jayesh landed and ran, and for a moment there was reprieve from attack.

At the end of the hall was a rough staircase that wound upward. Madrid fell behind his team, impeded by Silvan’s weight. He used his Light to leap up the staircase, feeling the burn in his muscles, breathing hard. His shoulder and back were beginning to ache.

Beyond the staircase was a hall that had been broken long ago in some earthquake. The floor was up-ended in huge chunks, and deep cracks riddled the floor. The grimy footprints of the aliens marked the quickest path around and through. But Madrid, with half his vision blocked by Silvan’s body over his shoulder, couldn’t watch his footing. He misstepped and fell into one of the fissures.

He landed in ankle-deep water and barely saved Silvan from sliding off his shoulder. Rose, who had been acting as his flashlight, zipped after him with a cry. "Guardian!" 

"I'm all right," Madrid told her as she rejoined him. "How do I get out?"

Rose played her light around. The fissure had been about fifteen feet deep. It had opened up a lower level passage, which was flooded with dirty water and Hive filth. She aimed her light along the tunnel. "That way. It might even be a shortcut."

Over his radio, Jin called, "Madrid? Lost visual, buddy."

"I'm all right," Madrid said. "You and Jayesh go on, I'm trying an alternate route."

"Don't get lost."

"I won't."

Madrid sloshed forward as the screams and howls of more thralls echoed up the passage. "Rose, find out from Silvan's Ghost why she isn't waking up."

"He says she's wandering," Rose replied, her voice trembling. "That witch did something to her mind. He can't reach her until we escape this Darkness."

"Right." Madrid hurried onward, the stinking water soaking his boots and pants. Something wrapped around his ankle, and he looked down. Gleaming in the light was a segmented, slimy Hive worm, its split jaws nipping at the tough leather of his boot, seeking a purchase. He kicked it off with a shudder of horror. As he waded onward, he realized that the water was alive with worms, all of them wriggling to the surface to investigate the beam of light from his Ghost. He stamped with each step, feeling the rounded bodies of the worms crunch underfoot. Part of him found this disgusting, but the greater part of his psyche found this satisfying. Each worm he killed would never have a chance to infest a Hive thrall and enable it to pass energy up through the echelons to the gods. His only concern was that none of them bite him, because worm venom was notoriously deadly to Guardians.

The tunnel wound on and on, staying at the same level, neither rising nor falling. The worm infestation grew thicker. His helmet HUD displayed an alert warning him of high methane levels.

Then the passage split in three directions. Down each passage was another branch. Black water trickled down most of them, thick and slow as tar.

Madrid stopped, panting, his shoulder numb from Silvan's weight. "Rose, which way?"

"I … I don't know," the Ghost said softly. She flew a short distance from him, playing her light down each passage. When she returned, she tilted her shell in a way he recognized as worried. "I can't reach our team. The rock is too thick. And I can't see far down any of these passages. It's a maze."

"What do we do?" Madrid asked. He stepped sideways to avoid a tangle of worms that were slowly gathering around his ankles.

"I guess we explore," Rose said. "We might follow the water--"

Silvan's Ghost appeared in a flash of light. Bramble zipped around them, taking in their surroundings. He returned to hover in front of Madrid. "Where is he? I came out to fight him!"

"Who?" Madrid said. "There's nobody else here."

"That dead guardian!" Bramble exclaimed. "He's talking to Silvan and he's so disturbing! Make him stop!"

"You mean the nightmares?" Madrid glanced around, but no nightmares appeared. It seemed even they weren't interested in Hive sewers.

"No, he's _real_ ," Bramble snarled. "I'm going to find him!" He opened his shell and expanded into a sphere of blue Light. He pulsed three times, furious and reckless. The worms began to writhe, jaws snapping above the water.

The third pulse seemed to wrap around a spot in the air a few feet away. The light warped and bent, as if seen in a concave mirror. In the middle of that warp appeared a spark.

Madrid backed away from it. It was a ball of light, fizzing with energy like lightning. It wove and bobbed in midair, warping the light around it. 

"There he is!" Bramble exclaimed. "Get out of her head, Toland! I'm warning you!" 

A male voice only chuckled in response. It echoed as if coming from a great distance.

"You're Toland the Shattered?" said Madrid, staring at the spark. "But you died along with the rest of Eris Morn's team."

"And the cold railed against the warmth for which it hungered," Toland replied. "I hunger for all the Light in the sky. For what do you hunger, Guardian?"

Madrid nearly answered, then caught himself. Toland had been exactly like this in life, too. He loved talking in riddles and poetry, drawing in unwitting opponents to be crushed by his intellect. When he'd betrayed his fireteam to their deaths, Madrid hadn't been surprised. Toland had been banished for insane obsession with the Hive, and nothing had changed.

"I need a way out," Madrid said.

"The Light comes here to die," Toland replied. "The worms consume it and bring forth Darkness. Do you know their names?"

"I just want out," Madrid said doggedly. "Can you show me the way?"

The spark zigzagged in midair, then shot away down the right-hand branch. "I will be your Virgil," Toland said, his voice receding. "Follow but do not trust, Guardian. I mean you no good."

"At least he's honest," Madrid muttered to the two Ghosts following at his shoulder.

"Toland always was," Rose said softly. "It was the truths he spoke that were so horrifying."

They followed the spark along a winding passage that grew more and more narrow. Then Toland shot upward. Madrid looked up and saw another crack in the ceiling, like the one he'd fallen down. Toland hovered above it, waiting.

Madrid gathered his strength and leaped, then leaped again. He left the sewer and landed on dry, solid stone once more. He'd emerged from a fissure in a room he recognized as only a few minute's walk from the Hellmouth itself.

"Thanks," he said to the disembodied Guardian.

"Extend me no gratitude," Toland replied. "Nightmare and death await. Darkness encroaches upon the penumbra. When you descend to your nadir, there you will find answers."

Madrid turned away without answering and hurried for the surface.

* * *

Silvan sat at a table with Dredgen Yor.

It was a pretty table with a lace tablecloth, a centerpiece of flowers, and a silver teapot. She poured a cup for herself and for her enemy.

"Thank you," he said, accepting it. His hands were dirty, wrapped in cloth strips instead of gloves. "Tell me, little one. What is hope?"

Silvan stirred a lump of sugar into her tea. "Hope is what we have left when all seems lost."

"Hope is for fools," Yor replied. "There is nothing to hope for. The Traveler lies dead. The Darkness comes. You have seen its strength. You have felt its power."

"But the Darkness can't win forever," Silvan replied. "That would upset the balance. There must be Light for Darkness to exist."

"Darkness was born first," Yor replied. "Light was second. And then they were sundered."

"As it must be, if there is to be order from chaos," Silvan replied, sipping her tea. It was bitter. The sugar barely made a difference.

Toland arrived and took a seat at the table. Silvan poured him a cup of tea, too. He was dressed in the shattered bones of humans and animals, and they rattled when he moved.

"Why are you here?" Dredgen Yor asked him. "You are not welcome."

"We share likeness, you and I," said Toland. "Together we seek power over the Darkness. Together we discover that power is the Darkness. The Hive learned this eons ago."

"I accepted my end," Yor replied. "You rejected it and exist as pathetic energy. Where is your throneworld?"

"It exists," Toland replied. "It will grow. What of your legacy? A circle of rogues and murderers who play at seeking power. The fire has destroyed their ranks."

"Nothing ends," Yor replied. "This little one must learn that. See the sweet grief that festers in her heart. See the sadness that has left her vulnerable. Hope is her enemy."

"I'm pretty sure you two are my enemies," Silvan said. She was having trouble thinking straight. Her eyes were closed. She struggled to open them.

"I am not your enemy," Toland said. "Neither am I your friend. But my sight reaches farther than this fool's. Hope is a madman's dream, yet I dare to dream it. I do not hope for triumph, but rather for satisfaction and the end of all things."

"I see far enough," Yor said, setting down his empty cup. "The Light exists to be fed upon. It is energy, and energy is life. But hope … that is folly."

"These three remain," Silvan said. "Faith, hope, and love."

Toland and Yor laughed at her.

"The warlock speaks of faith," Yor said. "What is faith, little one?"

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for," Silvan said. "The evidence of things not seen."

"Faith and hope entwine in yet more folly," Yor said. "And you speak of love. The greatest folly of all."

"Idiocy," Toland agreed. "Love is a front for the self to feed upon others."

"Neither of you have ever known love," Silvan said. "You rejected it long ago. Love is the constant sacrifice of self for the good of others. The greatest love of all lays down its life for it's friends. No Darkness can overcome that."

Yor and Toland both growled.

"The girl speaks nonsense," said Yor.

"Agreed," said Toland. "Typical of a woman. They're filled with silly, romantic ideas."

"It has nothing to do with being a woman," Silvan snapped, slapping the table. "Listen to you two! You're the foolish ones. You turned your backs on everything good. You were both chosen by the Light, and you rejected it! You have both committed unspeakable blasphemy, rejecting the very love that offered you a second chance. There is no third chance."

Toland smiled and sipped his tea. But Dredgen Yor rose to his feet. "You poisoned the tea, I see. Very well. But you'll not be rid of me so easily."

Silvan looked at the empty package of arsenic beside the teapot. No wonder the tea had been bitter.

Beside her, Bramble said, "Time to come home, star-child." His voice was warm and affectionate, like the personification of a hug.

Silvan looked up and saw that Dredgen Yor and Toland were sculpted out of ice. The cups were clear ice, the table blue ice, and Toland's smile was colder than a glacier. She turned away from them and went home with Bramble.


	11. Weaponcrafting

Silvan awoke on a cot in the barracks tent. Sunlight illuminated the roof in muted yellow. The cot was only slightly softer than the rocky ground. Above her floated Bramble, his purple shell dusty and smudged, his blue eye studying her anxiously. When he saw her eyes open, he twirled his shell and emoted a smile. "Good morning," he said softly.

Silvan smiled, reached up, and drew him in for a kiss on his shell. Then she lifted her head and looked around.

The bed next to hers was occupied by Madrid. He was wrapped in his cloak and snoring, lines of exhaustion etched in his blue skin. Beyond him was Jin, also stretched out on a cot. But the Exo was awake and poking through his Ghost's holographic display.

Between Silvan and Madrid's beds, Jayesh sat in a folding chair, a tablet in one hand, an energy bar in the other. He was gnawing on it absently as he studied his tablet. At first, Silvan couldn't figure out why he was there. Then she realized that a healing rift rippled on the floor beneath all three beds. Jayesh was maintaining it with his feet. He sensed her gaze and glanced up with a smile.

"Feeling better?" he asked in a low voice.

Silvan sat up and stretched. "I'm all right." Her body felt strong enough, anyway. Her mind still felt scattered and bewildered. Part of it was still at that tea party with Toland and Dredgen Yor. She glanced around for the nightmares and didn't see them.

"Oh, they're outside," Jayesh said, understanding her look. "They won't enter a healing rift, for some reason, but they're not gone."

That was a relief. Silvan rubbed her eyes. "What happened? Last thing I remember, we were running through the dark with some monster chasing us."

"A witch attacked your mind," Jayesh said. "Madrid carried you out. We never did see the Zulmak thing, but I'm afraid we've stirred up something we should have left alone."

Silvan nodded. Her temples ached. No wonder she'd had such strange dreams. "We got the Cryptoglyph, didn't we?"

"It's with Eris," Jayesh replied. "She's studying it. She actually smiled when we handed it over. I don't think I've ever seen her smile before."

"It'll help us block out the nightmares," Silvan said. "Speaking of which, do you have any?

Jayesh nodded toward the other side of the tent. There was a door there--a wooden door with a knob. It didn't belong in a tent made of cloth. A little red haze flickered around it.

Silvan watched the door. At first she was inclined to laugh at the silliness of such a fear. Then she realized that doors could open. Anything might come out. The thought of that door slowly opening with horrors creeping over the lintel sent chills racing through her.

"Why a door?" she asked.

Jayesh glanced at the door for a moment, then turned back to his tablet. "A traitor Guardian came to my apartment and tried to murder my family and me." He said it casually, as if remarking about the price of milk and eggs. But the combination of the words and that looming nightmare door told Silvan everything. She had met his wife and two children before, and the very existence of the nightmare brought home to her how deeply afraid Jayesh must still be.

"Oh my gosh, what? When? Are you guys all right?"

"A few months ago," Jayesh said. "We're fine. I guess the pyramid decided to pick that particular trauma to use against me." He lifted his head and studied her. The blue glint in his eyes was very bright. "Who is the nightmare following you around? A Hunter?"

"Dredgen Yor," Silvan replied. "I met him at Twilight Gap and the memory still creeps me out. It was a long time ago, though. I don't know why the pyramid's dragging up that memory. I have lots of worse ones."

"Hm." Jayesh studied Madrid, who snored on, oblivious to their conversation. "Any idea why I'm Madrid's nightmare?"

"That's why I messaged you, to find out," Silvan said. "He said it was because he killed you. Or he thought he killed you. I wondered if getting the story straight might help him."

Jayesh gazed at Madrid for a moment, then sighed heavily and stared at his tablet. "Do you know what happened the day Prince Uldren was killed?"

"He was shot by Madrid, wasn't he?" Silvan said. "Served him right for what he did to Cayde and his own people." She held up a finger and thumb, took aim at an imaginary foe, and imitated a gunshot. "Wish it had been me."

"No, you wouldn't have," Jayesh said. "Uldren was beaten. It wasn't even a fight. See, he was trying to bring back Mara Sov. But he'd been deceived by Riven, the Ahamkara. And he was Taken. It was awful." He paused and stared at nothing, seeming to peer into the shadows of his own memory. "What Uldren brought through the portal was a giant Taken Servitor. Huge meatball with a mouth where the eye was. It ate him right in front of us. Then Madrid tried to feed me to it, too."

Silvan clapped a hand to her mouth and stared at Madrid, then Jayesh.

The warlock nodded wearily, as if telling the story was hard work. "I stabbed it with my fire sword, which killed it. It almost killed me. But it dropped Uldren, and … after going through that, I couldn't kill him. He should have stood trial. But Madrid finished the job." He glanced at the Hunter on the bed, asleep in Jayesh's healing rift. "But that's over and done with. We made up when I came out to the Dreaming City. Madrid paid for what he did and I've forgiven him. I don't know why the pyramid thinks that I might make a good nightmare."

Silvan leaned forward and held out a hand. After a moment, Jayesh took it. Silvan simply held his hand for a moment, gazing at him. "I'm sorry you went through that," she whispered. "I didn't know. I didn't want to know."

He released her hand and stood up. "That's the big secret, I guess. I came all the way up here to tell the story and apologize again, if necessary." He glanced at Madrid and shook his head. "I'm going back outside. Get some rest, Silvan. That's the best thing you can do for now." He left the tent, and his footsteps faded in the direction of Eris's post.

Silvan lay back down for a while, but sleep eluded her. For one thing, Jayesh's story kept running through her head, gaining horrific details in her imagination. For another, the nightmare was nearby, and its presence weighed on her. After a while she sat up and reached for her boots.

Madrid shifted on his bunk, rolling onto his back. He blinked at her, his yellow eyes bright and alert.

"Now you know," he said.

It took Silvan a moment to figure out what he meant. "Oh. You were awake the whole time."

Madrid sat up, rolled his shoulders, and popped his neck. "Not the whole time, but I heard enough. See why he's my nightmare?"

"No, actually," said Silvan slowly. "Not if you two made up. Do you dwell on it all the time or something?"

"Not really." Madrid began pulling on his own boots, which were still damp. "Guilt's a funny thing."

Silvan's eyes widened. "Wait … are you guilty about killing Jayesh … or killing Uldren?"

Madrid avoided her gaze and didn't answer. He tightened the straps on his boots and left the tent.

Jin, on the next bed, was lying with his hands behind his head, observing all this. He looked at Silvan, his purple eyes glowing brightly. "This fireteam has a crapton of drama."

"Tell me about it," said Silvan, and followed Madrid outside.

* * *

Madrid found Jayesh talking to Eris Morn. Eris had arranged a table with the Cryptoglyph floating above the basin of essence. It looked exactly as it had down in the catacombs, but some of its looming menace had been lost. The instruments of evil were somehow smaller and less threatening outdoors, under the glaring light of the sun.

"Sunsingers are despised by the Hive," Eris was telling Jayesh. "You disrupt the death song."

"Uh, that's good, I guess," Jayesh said. He gazed toward the scarlet keep in the distance, then shuddered and turned away. This brought him face to face with Madrid. "Oh. Hey."

"Hey," said Madrid. "Did Silvan mention how she sprung my bail?"

"Ikora did," said Jayesh, his voice dropping to a low, deadly murmur that Madrid had never heard before. "Silvan is not going to take your place in the Dreaming City. That's the other reason I came up here. Phoenix is carrying parts for as many weapons as he could load."

"You'll help build a weapon of Darkness?" Madrid said, incredulous. " _You_?"

For a second, Jayesh's face changed, becoming harder, older. "I can't do it for you. But I won't let you do it alone. You faced the whispers alone last time. No more."

In that second, Madrid realized that Jayesh was no longer the bewildered new Guardian he had been two years ago. This warlock was a man who had faced the horrors and shocks of military service and matured along the way. Madrid had never met this new, tougher Jayesh. He didn't know the Sunsinger at all. But he'd seen him in battle, heard his song, seen his deft hand with both weapons and Light. There was no other warlock he'd rather have watching his back.

Behind him, the nightmare of Jayesh shrank, folded in on itself like a piece of cloth, and vanished.

Madrid didn't notice. A lightness of new hope entered his heart. "I picked up some artifacts in the catacombs. Let's see what we can build."

Phoenix transmatted a roll of canvas into Jayesh's arms. Jayesh unrolled it, revealing a bundle of tools. He spread out the canvas on a flat rock to use as a workbench, then laid the tools on it. "You said you found artifacts?"

Madrid opened his ammo pouch and began pulling out the unknown objects he'd snatched off the table in the temple. Silvan and Jin walked up to take a look. They were followed by Eris Morn, her green eyes glowing brightly through her mask.

One object was a small, carved figurine of a crouching Hive acolyte. Eris picked it up and turned it over in her hands. "Useless," she proclaimed. "This is a ritual totem. It has no power in itself." She laid it aside and picked up a smooth, polished piece of orange crystal like amber. There was an insect of some kind trapped inside. "This is alive with Light, not Darkness. Useless for your purposes, but … interesting." She held it up to the light to examine the insect, then set it down carefully. Last, her fingers closed around a diamond-shaped metal object. It looked like it ought to attach to the top of a staff or some larger instrument. She turned it over and over, looking at the tiny chip of stone suspended in the middle of the metal working. "Ah," she said. "This. The object within this focus. This is what you need." She handed it to Madrid. "Look at the fragment in the center. That is a piece of the pyramid. Like a fractal, the pyramid can divide itself into ever smaller copies. Each possesses the power of the main body."

"I thought you said it would be too dangerous to use a pyramid," said Silvan. "Like harnessing the whole Traveler."

"I have reconsidered," Eris said. "The Cryptoglyph is an article of more powerful magic than you understand. With enough essence, we can bind this fragment into a weapon."

"What would it do, exactly?" asked Jayesh. "What power does the Darkness use? Just … black bolts of nothing?"

"Ice," said Eris, drawing the word out in a hiss. "The Darkness craves silence, and stasis, and a final shape frozen for eternity. It desires the end of energy, of absolute zero. A weapon of Darkness will be a weapon of such extreme cold, the user will be in danger of immediate frostbite." She smiled. "But you will not use it. The Queen will find it acceptable."

There was a moment of silence as the team looked at that tiny chip of a pyramid, itself a pyramid.

"Right," Madrid said. "I'm thinking trace rifle. Beam of cold. What do you think?"

There was a short debate as they discussed the merits of different kinds of rifles and ammo. A fusion rifle was also a choice. But in the end, Madrid got his way--Jayesh's supplies would allow for a trace rifle, not a fusion rifle.

As Phoenix transmatted parts in an orderly row on the canvas, Silvan picked up the chunk of amber. She cupped it in both hands and peered into it for a long time in silence. The Light it emitted was so strong, it warmed her hands.

"What are you?" she whispered to the insect inside. "Some new species that stores Light? Are you Hive?"

It looked like a spider, but with extra little crab pinchers. A whip scorpion, maybe, but with no whip. Every hair on its tiny body had been carefully preserved. Many insects lived in Hive lairs, but this one looked terrestrial. Some creation of the Traveler's, maybe, engineered for survival on one of the planets or moons.

Bramble appeared and scanned it. "It's not amber," he said. "It's crystal. But it's been polished like amber. Probably meant for some machine. Or an ogre was going to swallow it and carry it around in its belly."

"Ogres have been found with crystals inside them," Silvan said, every inch the Gensym Scribe. "But none with Light this strong. Maybe the crystal itself is derived from some Light-powered source."

"Try your psychic sense," Bramble suggested. "Does it pick up anything?"

Silvan opened her mind, which she'd kept shut tight against her nightmare. Her mind was sore and raw-feeling from the witch's attack in the catacombs, and before that, Besurith had shredded her like broken glass. Opening up now was difficult, like flexing a broken limb that was rigid and swollen. But this was Light, and its touch soothed the pain like healing balm.

_ "Who are you?" _

The voice was strong and masculine. Silvan jumped and looked around. But her team were bent over their workbench, and there was nobody else near. Her nightmare didn't sound like that. Maybe she had contacted someone through the Light. She focused on the amber again. "I am Silvan Nerisis."

"Are you a Guardian?"

"Yes."

"I see you. Hi there, pretty lady. I'm not in that Hive lair anymore, am I?"

Silvan blinked at the insect in the crystal. She was in clear view of its tiny eyes. "To whom am I speaking?"

"Omar Agah, of course," said the voice. "Oh, I know they did something to me. Stripped out my Light, murdered my Ghost. But when they poured my Light into a crystal, they got my soul, too. So here I am. A bug or something."

"Eris!" Silvan cried, nearly dropping the crystal in a spasm of horror. "Eris, uh, look at this?"

Eris rushed to her side and took the crystal. "What is it? Did you discover something?"

Silvan stood with both hands over her face, peeking through a gap in her fingers. "Speak to it. With your mind. The bug."

Eris frowned and lifted the crystal to eye level. She stood stock still for nearly a minute. Silvan and the team watched her, holding their collective breath.

Eris did not cry out, but she drew a sharp breath. Then she clasped the crystal to her chest and bowed her head over it for a moment. Slowly she turned to face the other Guardians, cradling the crystal in both hands, as if it were very precious. "This is all that remains of my friend, Omar Agah."

Madrid, Jayesh, and Jin gathered around to look at the encased insect.

"Weird!" Jin exclaimed. "How did the Hive turn him into a bug? Could they turn me into a bug?"

"Perhaps, yes," Eris said. "The witches tear the Light from Guardians to feed to their brood. It seems they intended to encapsulate Omar's Light in a living host, such as an insect, encasing it in conductive material. But they captured his soul along with his Light."

"What do we do?" Jayesh asked. "Does he want to be freed?"

"Put out of his misery, more like," said Madrid. "You can't get that bug out without tearing it to pieces."

"Hush." Eris bent her head over the amber again. The group fell silent, waiting.

At last Eris raised her head. Her lower lip trembled a fraction. "He wishes to be made into a gun. A machine gun, to be exact. He said that he wants to kill every last member of the Hive."

"Can we do that?" Jayesh asked, turning to Jin and Madrid.

"We can try," Jin said. "You two work on the trace rifle. I'm going to repurpose my machine gun, over here." He had his Ghost transmat in the huge weapon, which he laid on the canvas and began to disassemble.

Silvan sat on a rock and watched them work. Eris walked off with the amber and its occupant. Her cloud of nightmares followed her. But as Silvan watched, one of the nightmares folded in on itself and vanished. Eris was having closure for Omar Agah.

"I wish I could make mine go away," Silvan thought, not looking at the cloaked and hooded Dredgen Yor who lurked behind her. "Bramble, any thoughts?"

"Well, Eris is collecting trinkets," her Ghost replied in her head. "Things that remind her of them. She's able to talk to poor Omar. Is there any way you could think of something good about Dredgen Yor?"

Silvan rummaged through her memory. "He did save me at Twilight Gap. I think it was only because my Light wasn't worth feeding on at the time." She thought about the way he had taken her by the hand and led her across the battlefield, killing anything that crossed his path with the cursed hand cannon Thorn. She had been in great danger, and yet she had probably never seen safer in her life.

Silvan glanced around for the nightmare. It was still there.

"What do you want?" she asked it. "Why are you here? You don't make any sense. Dredgen Yor was bad, yes, but he didn't hurt me. Why are you taking his form?"

The nightmare slowly reached up and pushed back its hood.

The face that emerged was not the grizzled, wasted face of Dredgen Yor. It was the young, handsome face of Shin Malphur.

"I am Dredgen Vale," he whispered in her head. "You watched my slide into Darkness. You blame yourself. That is why I have come."

Silvan stared at the nightmare for a long moment. Then she rested her face in her hands. "So that's why. The pyramid peeled me apart like an onion, didn't it? It knows things I don't even know."

The nightmare drew closer, Shin Malphur drawn in shades of red. He stooped over her to whisper in her ear. "You did fail. I followed in Dredgen Yor's footsteps. I am as corrupt as he was. You could have stopped me, but all you did was watch. What makes you think you can help anyone here? You're a liability to your team."

Silvan pushed the nightmare away, her hand passing through its cold, semi-corporeal form. "Stop it. Go away." But her gesture and conviction were both weak. The nightmare loomed over her, growing bigger.

Her Ghost appeared in a swirl of Light, spinning his shell aggressively. "Get back!" Bramble opened his shell, wrapping himself in a bubble of Light, and zipped straight through the nightmare multiple times. The nightmare recoiled and backed away, raising its shredded hands to fend off the Ghost.

Silvan sat up straight, watching. "Bramble! What are you doing?"

"These things don't like Light," Bramble replied, returning to her. "I can't kill it, but I can fight it off." He spun to watch the nightmare as it floated at a respectful distance. "I'm watching you." He positioned himself between his Guardian and the nightmare like a little glowing shield. He had always been protective of her, probably owing to finding her as a child and watching her grow up.

Jayesh walked up, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Are you all right over here?"

"Just nightmare problems," Silvan said, forcing a smile. "Bramble took care of it."

Jayesh peered at the nightmare. "Is that Shin Malphur?"

Silvan nodded.

Jayesh smiled grimly. "Worried about him tracking you down?" He extended a hand to Bramble’s Light field, his fingertips glowing with Solar Light. Bramble’s field grew brighter and wider as he accepted the additional power.

“Why would Shin track me down?” Silvan said blankly. “He’s out hunting Guardians who fall to the Darkness.”

“Well.” Jayesh folded his arms and looked at the nightmare. “He was after me and my friend Nell for a while. We got mixed up with some guys who were manufacturing weapons of sorrow.”

Silvan blinked at him. “You did? What happened?”

“We’re both still alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jayesh said with a half-smile. “But the weapons manufacturers disappeared. Funny how that happens. Is that why he’s your nightmare?”

“Oh. No, that’s not it.” Silvan drew in her knees and rested her chin on them. “I met him when I was a kid, and he was a kid, too. Just a messed-up teenager, and he was in so much pain. I felt so sorry for him. Dredgen Yor murdered his mentor and his stepfamily and his whole town. Shin never got over it. His pain just hardened, like a shell. Then he went off to study Dredgen Yor’s methods, and he became Dredgen Vale. He and his little group all took the Dredgen name.”

Jayesh’s face lost all expression. He stared at the nightmare in stunned silence. Sick anguish rolled off him in such waves that Silvan felt it. Mixed with it was something else that she couldn’t make out. Compassion, maybe?

“I was sent to observe their actions,” Silvan said. “I watched them for months as they changed into … well, not exactly Guardians, if you know what I mean. Shin gained a lot of knowledge about the Darkness, but he paid a high price. I always wondered if I should have stepped in. Talked him out of it. If I had said something, would that have changed things? Could I have stopped what he became?”

The nightmare grinned and grew a little larger. That guilt was fueling it.

Jayesh sat on the rock beside her and pulled out Lumina. “Here,” he said, handing it to her, grip-first. “Hold this for a moment. I have a story to tell you.”

He told her about battling Shin Malphur for the lives of his friends. The battle ended in a draw, but he must have won Shin’s respect, because later on, he’d received a letter. “He said he was retiring and wanted to be rid of the original Thorn. He wanted to pass it to me to destroy or remake. Kari and I wound up tearing it apart and rebuilding it. That’s what Lumina is. We took a weapon of sorrow and created a weapon of hope. I think you shouldn’t grieve for Shin too much. He chose his own path, and you couldn’t have stopped him. I think, maybe, he’s found peace in some way. If it bothers you that much, you ought to get in touch with him and try talking to him. I doubt he’d be much threat to you.”

Silvan sat for a few minutes, thinking about this. The idea of her hero Jayesh battling Shin Malphur to a draw was the most wonderful, horrible thing she’d ever imagined. She turned Lumina over, looking at the fine details on the barrel and the cylinder. Her fingers traced the long flower petals and found the lightweave thorns that protruded between them. A weapon of horror had become something beautiful.

“I think I’ll do that,” she said softly, handing Lumina back to Jayesh. “I’ve been too afraid to try talking to him. I didn’t know you fought him. Did he hurt you?”

Jayesh grinned and dipped his head in a deep nod. “But I messed him up, too, so we’re even. I don’t want to meet him again, though.” He rose to his feet and patted her shoulder. “Don’t let that nightmare get to you. We need you over here at Weapons Manufacturing Inc., if you don’t mind. You and Eris are the only ones who can talk to the bug. Omar, I mean.”

Silvan followed him back to the canvas-covered rock, glad to stop dwelling on her guilt and the oppression the nightmare brought with it. 


	12. Retaliation

The canvas was covered in weapon parts by this time, with all their Ghosts hovering above them, projecting blueprints and making suggestions. Jin had produced a small butane welding torch and was busy with the machine gun frame, holding a pair of dark glasses over his face. Madrid had a lot of parts arranged in the rough shape of a rifle and was arguing with Eris over the structural integrity of the steel when confronted with extreme cold.

“Most steel used in firearms has to cope with rapid temperature fluctuations, but we’re talking about hundreds of degrees below zero. The whole frame will shatter. We might as well be filling the thing with liquid nitrogen.”

“Perhaps that is the answer,” Eris Morn said, picking up a tube that Madrid had intended as the barrel. “The steel must be tempered with additional elements for extra strength.” She weighed it in her hands for a moment. Then she carried it toward the table with the Cryptoglyph. Madrid watched her go, frowning. Then he shook his head and turned back to Jayesh and Silvan. “This is tougher than it looks.”

“Maybe she’s onto something,” Jayesh said. He picked up the lump of amber from where it nestled on a folded cloak. “Here, Silvan. Ask Omar how he wants this machine gun modified.”

Silvan gazed through the orange crystal at the insect inside. _Hello, Omar._

“Hey there, pretty lady,” he replied at once. “I swear, you’re so much easier on the eyes than a Hive witch.”

“That’s not much of a comparison,” Silvan thought wryly. “They want to know how to build this gun.”

“Excellent!” Omar replied. “Turn the amber so I can see what they have so far. I have some ideas. What’s the Exo’s name?”

“Valis-2, but he goes by Jin.”

“Tell Jin to add about a pound of lightweave to the firing mechanism. I want it covered, understand? I’m going to pour my Light into every bullet, and it’ll take crazy amounts of conductivity.”

Silvan relayed this. Jin shut off his torch and listened, his mechanical face attentive. He picked up the firing mechanism, which had been detached from the rest of the frame, and held it up. “Give Omar a good look. I can’t add too much thickness or the mechanism will jam. What do you think? Along here and here?”

Silvan translated as Omar and Jin discussed the intricacies of modifying the machine gun. Jin added a layer of lightweave wire, then they experimented with slotting the amber into the gun, itself. They tried inserting it like a magazine, then they tried mounting it to the forearm, like an extra sight. But this ruined the actual sights, so they tried installing it to the butt. This put it too far away from the firing mechanism. In the end, they decided to work it into the frame beneath the cover, just behind the feed tray. Jin cut a section out of the frame and fitted the amber into it. Then he lined the hole and the feed tray with lightweave wire to conduct Light straight into the ammunition. It was another two hours of work to fit the machine gun back together with the amber inside.

“Come with me for a test run, Silvan,” Jin said, hefting the machine gun over his shoulder. “If this works, I need to ask Omar about it. If it doesn’t work, the amber might crack and he’ll be one dead bug.”

“I heard that,” Omar said to Silvan’s mind. “Tell him it will totally work. This isn’t the first weapon I’ve modded.”

Silvan relayed this. Jin grinned, the lights in his mouth brightening. “It’s not my first, either. All right, let’s go blow up some rocks.”

They walked away from the encampment and picked a spot about half a mile away. Jin set up a couple of rocks on a boulder against a hillside. Any stray bullets would hit the hill and not simply travel for miles in lunar gravity, possibly injuring or killing a friendly target. Jin raised the gun, gripping it by both handles, and fired.

Instead of a series of bullets, the weapon fired a burst of several all at once, encased in a pellet of Light. It reduced the target rocks to a puff of dust and punched a crater in the hillside. Jin held the gun and blinked, stunned. Then he grinned and fired again. Another Light slug impacted on the hillside.

"Can I try?" Silvan asked.

Jin passed her the gun. "It has a hefty kick, so brace yourself."

Silvan did, and absorbed the gun's jolt as it fired. She thought to Omar, "Are you doing that? Firing a ton of bullets at once?"

"Yep," came the reply. "Paracausal space magic, baby. I can fire bullets before they come down the belt. That'll put some holes in the Hive. And believe me, I want you to use this weapon to exterminate them for what they did to me." Omar's cheerful voice dropped to a growl.

Silvan passed the gun back to Jin. "He has serious power."

"I noticed," Jin replied. "What do we call this thing?"

Silvan consulted Omar. "He wants to call it the Badda-Boom Baby."

Jin laughed and patted the machine gun's barrel. "Descriptive, but I'd be laughed out of the Vanguard armory. I have to register this design and it needs a real name. Amber Bug Gun doesn't cut it."

"Hive murder death kill?" Silvan suggested.

In her head, Omar said, "Hive eater! Call it the Hive Eater!"

"But it will kill more than just Hive," Silvan said aloud. "It will work on any enemy."

"Xeno-something," said Jin. "That's a cool word. What word means destroyer or devourer?"

Silvan summoned Bramble. "Ideas?"

The Ghost flew in a happy circle. "I love naming guns! Okay, so, cool words. There's a medical term for viruses. Phage, meaning That which Devours. Xenophage? That which Devours Aliens?"

"I love it!" Omar shouted in Silvan's head. "I'm the Xenophage, now! Fear me, spawn of Crota!"

"He likes it," Silvan said, smiling.

"Great." Jin held out the machine gun. "You want it? You can talk to Omar, so you'd synchronize better with it. Might have to build up a little muscle if you use it a lot."

Silvan took the huge, heavy weapon and opened the cover to look at Omar. "Is it safe to put you in a Ghost's storage?" She looked at Bramble.

Bramble swept the gun with a scan beam. "I could carry him short term, but his Light will make it hard. He'll be like carrying a live wire inside me. It'd be better to stash him in the weapon locker on your ship."

"A locker?" Omar protested. "But I want to _kill Hive_. A few test-fires aren't what I want! Please, pretty lady. I need you to avenge me."

For some reason, Silvan's cheeks warmed. "My name is Silvan."

"Silvan," Omar replied, drawing out the syllables. "A pretty name for a pretty girl. Warlock, right? I always had a thing for warlocks."

"Are you hitting on me?"

"Sure I am. What's the harm? I'm a damn bug in amber."

Silvan gazed at the bug for a moment, then closed the cover. "All right. I'll try Xenophage out against Hive. It's not like they're hard to find out here."

Jin had climbed to the top of the hill and stood gazing across the Moon's landscape. Now he beckoned to Silvan. "Come look at this."

Silvan climbed up beside him. "What?"

"Look." Jin drew his finger across the ridge of a distant crater. "See the shadow?"

Silvan squinted. The mountains were dark at the tops and light at the bottom. It could have been a change in the geology. Or a shift in the light. Silvan glanced over her shoulder at the sun, which was closer to the horizon than she remembered. "Is it getting dark?"

"The Moon's changing phase," Jin said. "We're waning, the daylight part getting smaller. That's not what worries me. Can you see that canyon over there?"

Silvan saw it as a dark slash between two cliffs.

"Can you see inside it?" Jin asked.

"No," Silvan said. "My eyes aren't as good as an Exo's."

"That's why I asked," said Jin. "That canyon has a huge Hive ogre just inside the shadow. It's watching us. As the shadow gets longer, he's edging out. And there's more behind him."

Silvan peered at that canyon mouth as a thrill of fear rippled down her neck. "An ambush?"

"More like an invasion force," Jin said. "Probably hoping to attack the Guardians from behind. Once the moon goes completely dark, the Hive must come out and party. Come on, let's get back."

As they summoned their sparrows, a sound echoed across the plain, reverberating from the mountainsides. The roar of some huge creature. Silvan had last heard it in the catacombs.

"Is that Zulmak?" she asked, looking at Jin.

Jin leaped on his sparrow. "Yep. Hurry!" He shot away with a blast of his engine. 

Silvan mounted her own sparrow and shot after him, Xenophage weighing heavily against her back. Enemies were behind and before them, and she was still worn from their last battle.

“Bramble,” she thought, “shield my mind. I can’t handle another psychic attack.”

“I know,” he replied. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t protect you when you go around probing enemies.”

“I’m not doing that again for a while,” she thought.

Unbidden, Omar’s thought broke in. “You know, it’s not good to try to out-psychic the Hive. They’re terribly good at it. They breed for it, you know. Don’t try to take them on that way, my girl.”

“She’s not your girl,” Bramble snapped.

“I’m her weapon,” said Omar, sounding pleased with himself. “So that makes her my girl. Too bad you can’t be my Ghost, but nobody can ever replace Karsys.”

Bramble’s mood switched from possessive to apologetic at once. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Agah.”

“So am I,” Omar said softly. “She’s the only one who could have put me back in my human body.” His voice strengthened. “So anyway, Silvan’s my girl as long as I’m her gun, hope there’s no problem with that.”

“No,” said Bramble, so quietly that Silvan could barely hear him. “No problem.”

A lump rose in Silvan’s throat, so she didn’t try to reply, even inside her head. She’d never been claimed by anyone before, even a gun. Its weight on her back was suddenly comforting.

As they drew into sight of the camp near Archer’s Line, Silvan dragged her mind back to business. An army of Hive were swarming it, bombarding the shield with boomer shots. Several wizards were shrieking a song, goading their troops onward. And behind them walked the biggest Hive Knight Silvan had ever seen.

It didn't resemble a Knight so much as a hulking demon with a sword. It wore huge bone shoulder pauldrons that curved outward like horns. Its armor was covered in spikes, and a fierce glow of soulfire gleamed through the chunks in its armor. It was twenty feet tall. Silvan measured it against the normal-sized witches flying near it. Only ogres were supposed to grow that big. What in the world was this thing?

As they approached, other Guardians charged the Hive, cutting down thralls and acolytes with gunfire. Several brave souls attacked the huge Knight, Zulmak, lobbing grenades and firing rockets. These exploded against the Knight’s hips and chest, blackening the bone armor. Zulmak roared, charged forward, and slashed with his sword--left, right, then slammed it into the ground. A shockwave of soulfire radiated outward from the point of impact. Guardians screamed as they fell. The thralls immediately swarmed them.

“I hope that wasn’t Jayesh and Madrid,” Silvan said through her teeth. “Get off them, you vermin!” She cranked the sparrow’s accelerator. “Bram, can you fix sparrow damage?”

“To a point,” he replied with a giggle. “I love abusing hardware.”

Silvan plowed straight into the thralls tearing at the wounded Guardians. The balance bars on the nose cut through the bodies of several aliens, breaking the limbs and necks of several others that she ran over. Enraged, the thralls turned on her. Zulmak straightened, raising his sword.

“Oh yeah?” Silvan yelled, and summoned her Arc dawnblade. Lightning wings erupted from her shoulders, striking the surrounding aliens. Her sword rippling with blue bolts, she waded into the swarm, fighting aliens off the bodies of fallen Guardians. Only one was dead, but the rest were injured and bleeding, stunned from Zulmak’s shockwave. Silvan cleared a breathing space, allowing them to regain their feet and let their Ghosts heal them.

“Nice work,” Madrid said over the radio. “Heads up, Zulmak is coming for you.”

Silvan turned just in time to block the knight’s descending blade with her own. But his sword was the size of a tree trunk, the strength behind it was as powerful as a landslide. Silvan blocked the blow, but it broke both her arms and knocked her to the ground. For a second she stared at the pitted, veined surface of the bone blade, inches from her face. It sucked greedily at her Light, absorbing her lightning sword. When Zulmak lifted his sword away, Silvan’s supercharge went with it, her lightning crackling over his blade for a moment. The three eyes fixed on her with vicious intent as Zulmak lifted his sword for another blow.

“Bramble!” Silvan thought, struggling to climb to her feet without using her arms. Healing Light poured over her, and her bones began to knit. But it wasn’t fast enough. Zulmak was about to cut her in two.

Suddenly, in mid-swing, Zulmak flinched. A high-caliber slug punched into his bone helmet, cracking it. The sword went wide and struck the ground with a thud. Silvan looked around and saw Madrid kneeling behind a boulder, aiming his heavy sniper rifle. It was the one graded for Hive Ogres, Vex Minotaurs, and Cabal Centurions--she’d seen him use it before.

“Ahem,” said Omar Agah in her head. “I can help, you know.”

Silvan slung the heavy machine gun around in her barely-healed arms. “Let’s give you a real test fire, then.”

She aimed at Zulmak’s injured head and fired. The pellet of Light and bullets tore half the helmet off and penetrated the carapace. Soulfire erupted from the wound. Zulmak roared and turned, protecting his face. Silvan’s next shot hit his shoulder armor. She aimed lower, trying to hit his side, under his arm, but a regular-sized Hive knight jumped in the way, raising his bone shield. Xenophage’s next shot shattered the shield and blew the Knight’s head off. When a pack of thralls ran at Silvan, Xenophage’s blasts passed straight through multiple bodies, shredding them.

“You are a beast!” she cried to Omar.

“Give ‘em more!” he howled back, in an ecstasy of battle. “Kill them all! Kill the big one!”

Silvain rained blasts of Light and bullets into Zulmak's body until the Knight staggered, trying to shield itself. When a witch tried to intervene, a slug from Xenophage tore her in two.

"Silvan, get to cover!" Jayesh's voice said through the radio. "Something's happening, ten o'clock."

Silvan looked and saw three Hive witches in red bone armor flying in from the Hellmouth. The leader had a bone halo behind her head. Hashladun and her surviving sisters had arrived to assist Zulmak. As they approached, they began to sing. 

Their voices were a horrible screech, as if Hive vocal chords were incapable of producing any other sounds. But there was an awful harmony to it, even as it set Silvan's teeth on edge. She ducked behind a rock as Zulmak reared up, saluting them with his sword. Then he spun and slashed at the Guardians. 

Several Hunters had been sneaking closer, hoping to use their knives on the Knight. They were the unfortunate ones who caught the blade first. As they fell, dead or dying, Zulmak strode over them and waded into the other Guardians, hacking and slashing. The song of the witches seemed to be energizing him. Soulfire still burned from his wounds.

Silvan only had a few seconds. She could have fired at Zulmak again, but he was too strong. Instead, she aimed at the rearmost of Hashladun's sisters.

Xenophage tore through the witch's energy shield, punctured her armor, ripped through her insides, and continued for half a mile beyond her. The witch fell dead. The other two broke off their song to shriek in rage, hurling blasts of distilled hatred down upon Silvan.

"Bramble, transmat my sparrow over here!"

Her Ghost obeyed. The craft materialized behind the rock with her, its frame bent from its violence earlier. Silvan leaped on, gunned the engine, and rocketed out of hiding, aiming for the greater cover of a series of cliffs in the distance. One of the witch's blasts tore across her back, searing through her armor and opening her skin like a whiplash. The Moon's cold atmosphere burned into the wound.

Then Silvan was away, flying in a long half circle under cover of the cliffs, hoping to come up behind the attackers and flank them. As she went, Eris Morn's voice spoke over the radio. "All Guardians, fall back. Follow Archer's Line southeast. We cannot fight them, yet."

The radio broke into a clamor of protesting voices. But when Silvan broke out of cover, Guardians were fleeing the base camp in all directions. Most of the camp had vanished, speed-transmatted by everyone's Ghosts and carried off.

"Eris!" Silvan called. "Do you need a ride?"

"I have already evacuated," Eris Morn replied. "Look after yourself, Guardian."

Silvan steered into a wide circle, giving Bramble time to heal her back. She had a perfect view as Zulmak, the witches, and the lesser Hive stamped through the remains of the camp, tearing out the flooring, destroying any manmade object they could find, and defecating on the ground to defile it. The witches followed, circling the camp and chanting. The ground began to burn and blacken as they seared all remnants of Light out of the soil.

Silvan couldn't watch any more. "Bramble, set me a nav point for wherever the others went."

A marker appeared on her HUD, up in the hills to her left. She headed that way, following the old monorail line, disgusted to the depths of her soul.

"What happened?" Omar asked. "I can't see a thing from in here."

"The Hive destroyed our base camp," Silvan replied.

"Why'd you let them do that?" Omar demanded. "We had them on the ropes!"

"No we didn't," Silvan replied. "Hashladun and company showed up to energize the big guy. They were already too close to camp, and we couldn't risk them harming Eris."

Omar made a protesting noise, then sighed. "You're right. There's no point in winning if the defenseless die in the process. Still, though. Wasn't I awesome?"

"You were," Silvan assured him. "Now, I have to find the others."


	13. Darkness

Silvan saw the nightmares before she found the new camp. They hung in the air like evil kites, watching their targets below. 

The new camp was on a rocky hilltop. Eris set up her watch post and the Cryptoglyph there. Below it were the tents and communications equipment saved from the old camp. Everything was more scattered and sheltered this time. Their back was protected by a sharp drop-off to the plain a mile below, and their flanks were protected by sheer cliffs. It was a much better position.

Silvan drove into camp and parked her sparrow for Bramble to store. Slinging Xenophage onto her back, she lingered on the outskirts of the activity, looking for her team. "Madrid?" she called over their channel.

"Over here, Silvan," he replied.

She found Madrid standing sentinel beside a makeshift field hospital under the shadow of the hill. Multiple Guardians were stretched out on a tarp, and Jayesh had stabbed a wedge of Light into the ground, opening a Well of Radiance. Healing light bathed the injured, outlining them in white and blue. Jayesh, himself, moved from person to person, kneeling beside them to check their wounds, asking their Ghosts questions. Jin was among the wounded, lying oddly still in the healing Light.

"This looks serious," Silvan murmured to Madrid.

"It is," he replied in a low voice. "Lots of Guardians died multiple times to that sword of Zulmak's. It drained their Light each time. None of them are healing right, and their Ghosts are tired."

"Are you all right?" Silvan asked.

Madrid smiled. "My death count stands at eight and hasn't changed."

She slapped him on the back. "You distracted Zulmak from killing me, so, thanks."

"You're welcome," Madrid said.

Silvan stepped into the Well of Radiance and added her own healing rift, stacking Light on Light. Then she went to Jin and knelt beside him.

The Exo's purple eyes and mouth light were extinguished, and he didn't move as she approached. He looked dead. A huge slash had cut through the armor across his torso, exposing his mechanical innards. Silvan averted her eyes. It was nearly as awful as human guts.

"Jin?" she said softly, touching his metal forehead.

The purple eyes flickered on and focused on her. "Hey," he said weakly. "Healing magic's not working on mechanical stuff. Wonder why."

"Don't die," Silvan said. "Looks like there's Hive corruption at work."

"Don't plan on it," Jin said, closing his eyes again. "I've got revenge to plan."

Even though she didn't want to, Silvan inspected the cut in his belly. Bits of black rot clung to the metal and soft plastics inside him. She'd have to reach in there to clean it out, and she didn't know if she could.

At that moment Jayesh walked up and knelt beside them. "Hey there, Jin, Silvan. Wow, this looks bad."

"Feels bad, too," said Jin.

Silvan indicated the black junk. "Wormrot."

"Yeah, everybody has it," Jayesh said. He held out a hand, and his Ghost transmatted a pack of medicated wipes into his palm. "Nothing for it but to clean it off and hose it down with antiseptic." He fearlessly reached inside Jin and began cleaning the filth out, as if he did it every day. Silvan had to turn away. Her admiration for Jayesh deepened.

"How are you so brave?" she asked him, sitting in the healing Light. "I couldn't do that."

"I've been training as a field medic," Jayesh replied. "Guardians laugh at first aid, but you'd be surprised how useful it is. I've had to clean wounds that were way worse than this."

"No Guardians are laughing now," said Jin, gesturing at the others in the rift. Two more Guardians limped in and sank down into the Light, too. "This could be a second Disaster, here."

"Not while we're here," Jayesh said, lifting his head and meeting Silvan's eyes. "We're warlocks. Nobody dies a final death today. Right?" He held out a fist.

Silvan bumped her fist into his with a thrill. "Not while we have Light."

"Hey," said Jin weakly, looking up at Jayesh. "Just wanted to say. Guess I misjudged you."

"You did?" said Jayesh, discarding a soiled wipe and selecting a fresh one.

"Kind of embarrassing to have you cleaning my guts," Jin groaned. "And I thought you were some nutcase warlock. You know. The deal with the Traveler."

Jayesh smiled ruefully and kept working. "I get that a lot."

"Yeah, so," Jin said, closing his eyes, "just wanted to apologize."

"Don't worry about it," said Jayesh. He turned to Silvan. "Let me show you how to work precision healing."

It was strange, working alongside Jayesh as a healer. Silvan had taken extra healing training after having her leg chewed by a Hive worm and being unable to mend it. She knew how to place a healing rift and temper its Light in order to mend certain injuries faster. But Jayesh showed her how to integrate her Arc Light into her rift to stimulate nerves and muscles. His Solar Light added heat and regeneration. Silvan's power, in particular, healed Exos. There were four others, besides Jin, all of them with serious damage. Callie, the other warlock they had met in the World's Grave, offered a healing rift with Void Light. Together, the warlocks restored their fellow Guardians.

Madrid moved in and out, conferring with other Hunters. They were tracking Zulmak's movements and watching Hashladun. There was also a lot of activity around the Cryptoglyph. Eris Morn was busy with things Silvan couldn't make out. Hopefully, she was infusing armor with magic to silence nightmares.

Finally, the last Guardian left the healing rift, thanking them as she went. Silvan sat on a rock and rested, closing her eyes. It was sheer bliss to sit and do nothing, think of nothing. Somewhere, her stomach began to growl, but she pushed the thought of food away. She needed rest, not food. But still, a rations pack might not be so bad … maybe just an energy bar and some water.

"Hey."

Silvan looked up. Jin stood over her, holding out a knapsack. "I owe you," the Exo said, gesturing to his middle, where his armor had been fused back together by his Ghost. "I mean, I really, really owe you. Take whatever snacks you want." He glanced around, his purple eyes thoughtful. "Share some with that Jayesh guy. He probably saved my life."

"Thanks," said Silvan, taking the knapsack. It was so heavy, she nearly dropped it. "What's in this thing?"

"Good stuff," said Jin. "Rest up. We're planning a counter-attack up here." He walked off, winding toward the hilltop where several Guardians were talking and gesturing to the plain below.

"Bramble, call Jayesh," Silvan thought. "Tell him I have snacks, if he wants." She unzipped the pack and began digging through it. Besides piles of MREs in every flavor, there were instant coffee drinks, tiny packets of liquor, the good brands of energy bars with fruit in them, and sealed packets of nuts.

Jayesh arrived, carrying his helmet under one arm. He had dark shadows beneath his eyes, and his face seemed to sag with exhaustion. His black hair stood on end where he'd run his fingers through it. "Something wrong?"

"Jin gave me his whole stash of supplies," Silvan said. "He has crazy good stuff in here. Hungry?"

"I could choke something down," Jayesh said, eyeing the packages in the knapsack. "Invite Madrid down here, too."

"There's booze," Silvan said. "Want some?" She lifted a packet that held an ounce of brandy.

Jayesh looked at it for a moment. Then he took it with a nod. "Hand me a coffee. I could use a jolt to the system right now."

Madrid arrived and glanced at the pack. "Jin decided to share, did he?"

"Gratitude for saving him," Silvan said. "What do you want?"

Madrid silently selected an MRE, a coffee, and three different kinds of liquor. Silvan watched in awe as he poured all of them into his canteen, swirled it together, and drank it without flinching. Then he ate the MRE with lots of drinks from the canteen.

"How do you do that?" she finally asked.

Madrid lifted the canteen. "The stuff the Awoken shipped the Corsairs in the Dreaming City was a lot stronger than this."

Silvan drank only water. Jayesh noticed this as he put away two MREs, three ration bars, and multiple packs of nuts. "Not in the mood for alcohol?"

"I'm a featherweight," Silvan said with an embarrassed laugh. "One drink and I lose the ability to walk in a straight line. And it's not like I could sleep it off."

Madrid and Jayesh chuckled. Madrid said, "Most Exos can drink a guy under the table. But I knew this one Exo who only looked at a shot glass and got staggering drunk. Funniest thing I ever saw."

"I only drink during emergencies," Jayesh said, passing a hand over his eyes. "Not being allowed to sleep is an emergency, in my opinion. Especially when you still have to fight and heal and otherwise do your job. Helps take the edge off."

"Dad always worried about me," Silvan said. "He knew I couldn't handle a drink, and he always fretted that I'd get assigned to one of those party-hardy fireteams. You know, the ones who take a mission, then get drunk and shoot everything that moves?"

"I know some Guardians who can only face Taken while drunk," said Jayesh, very quietly. "Tempting."

Silvan looked at him, but he was gazing into the distance, giving no indication of what horrors might be playing through his mind.

Madrid said, "There at the end, I could only face the time loop if I could soak myself every night. Not a good way to live." His yellow eyes met Silvan's.

"I'm not going to live in the Dreaming City," said Silvan, giving the Hunter a fierce look. "We found that pyramid fragment. Did you get it working in that rifle?"

"Almost," said Madrid. "It should work, in theory, but the Hive attacked before we could test it. Speaking of, how's that bug gun treating you?"

"We named it Xenophage," said Silvan, reaching up to touch the barrel that protruded above her shoulder. "It destroys Hive. I was blowing chunks out of Zulmak."

Faintly, in her head, Omar said, "Thank you! Thank you!"

Madrid leaned forward. “I mean, how is he treating you? None of us can hear what he’s saying to you.”

“He’s very excited to be a gun,” Silvan said. “And … he’s sad. He mentioned his Ghost.”

Jayesh and Madrid exchanged a look.

“Well,” said Jayesh, “tell him to mind his manners. If he starts being a burden, we can take him off your hands.”

Silvan looked from Madrid to Jayesh and back, and realized that they were actually concerned about her. For some reason, this shamed her, especially coming from Jayesh, her hero. “I’ll keep him in line,” she said. “I can only hear him when I’m nearby, anyway. If he misbehaves, I can lock him up.”

“Good,” said Madrid. “I don’t care how tragic or useful he is. If he mistreats you, I’ll break his amber.”

“Oh, don’t do that,” Silvan exclaimed, raising a protective hand to the barrel of Xenophage. “He hasn’t had enough revenge yet.”

“Just saying.” Madrid rose to his feet. “Jay, did you pick up the pieces of the Darkness gun?”

“All but the splinter,” said Jayesh, standing up, too. “Had to carry that in a bag because Phoenix couldn’t touch it.” He opened an ammo pouch at his hip, dug out a cloth-wrapped object, and passed it to Madrid. Then he shook his fingers, as if the splinter’s touch pained him.

“Hot?” Silvan asked.

“Cold,” said Jayesh. “Burning cold.”

Silvan watched Madrid take possession of the splinter with great care. Then he and Jayesh moved off toward an open space, where they spread out the tarp again and resumed work on weapon smithing.

Silvan finished her meal alone, gazing across the lunar landscape. At the edge of the horizon, the stark gray landscape turned dim and shadowed. The moon was changing phase as the sun crept lower.

Did a huge army of Hive await them under cover of that shadow? Or had Jin only spotted a few outliers? Surely the Hive hadn't overrun the entire moon.

Silvan rose to her feet, peering around at the other Guardians. She needed a single Hunter with a fast sparrow. Just a quick scouting run.

Several Hunters clustered together at the edge of the cliffs, gesturing and talking. Silvan hated to disturb them--they were probably discussing strategy and Hive movements. As she approached, one was saying, "But the location doesn't make sense, not at that velocity."

"I tell you, it's possible," said another. "I've seen it done."

"Excuse me," said Silvan.

The Hunters looked up, a collection of expressionless goggles and helmets.

"Can I borrow one of you for about twenty minutes?" Silvan said. "Whoever has the fastest sparrow."

"Me!" said one, striding forward. "None of these plebs can touch the mods on my bike. I'm Jarus Corbin."

"Silvan Nerisis," Silvan replied, shaking hands. "Come over here."

She guided the Hunter to the far end of the hill and pointed out the encroaching shadow. "I just need to know if there's Hive out there. How many, and where."

Jarus scrutinized her. "That's awfully good thinking for a warlock." A grin crept into his voice. "Brains and beauty, huh? What a combo."

Silvan rolled her eyes. "Should I ask somebody else?"

"Naw, I'll do it," said Jarus. "Be back in a few." He jumped off the clifftop, summoned his sparrow in midair, swung onto it, and cushioned the landing with a blast of the hover thrusters. He rocketed away toward the dim shadow in the distance. 

Silvan watched him go with a sigh. "Why do all the men hit on me, Bramble?"

"Because you're not mean," her Ghost replied, phasing into sight beside her. "Or ugly. Lots of girls are one, or the other, or both."

"What do I do? Be mean to everyone?"

Bramble emoted a smile. "Show them Xenophage."

Silvan smiled and glanced at the barrel over her shoulder. She was growing accustomed to its weight, although the carrying strap dug into her shoulder. 

She turned to watch the other Hunters. They clustered together, working on something together. Then they stepped back. One Hunter remained, balancing an old tire on end. He rocked it back and forth, then pushed it off the cliff. The Hunters gathered on the edge and watched for a few seconds. Then they cheered and dealt high fives. One Hunter jumped down and returned a moment later with the tire held above her head.

"They're playing a game?" Silvan said in disbelief. "The Hive could be here any minute, and they're _bowling_?"

"Surely it's some new strategy," said Bramble. "Right?"

He was interrupted as the Hunters shouted, "More tires!" They scattered up and down the monorail line, hunting for abandoned vehicles.

Silvan sighed and shook her head. She climbed the hill to where Eris Morn was working with the Cryptoglyph. At least someone in this camp was taking their enemies seriously.

Jin stood nearby, gazing toward the Scarlet Keep in the distance with his helmet off. Eris had set his helmet in the basin beneath the Cryptoglyph, and was adjusting the dials, chanting under her breath. The sound made Silvan's skin crawl--it was the same words the Hive witches sang during their rituals. Her head began to ache with the memory of psychic damage, so she went to stand beside Jin.

"What's going on?" Silvan asked.

"Armor upgrades," the Titan replied. "Turns out, it's possible to grab a nightmare and drag essence out of it. Since I don't have any, we borrowed one of Eris's." He nodded at one of the red figures floating near Eris. It was more tattered-looking than the others.

Silvan glanced at her own nightmare. Dredgen Vale floated at a distance, but she always felt him lurking. He was a constant swirl of grief inside her.

"Eris is starting with magic on helmets," Jin went on. "Protect your mind and such. After that, she means to enchant breastplates, robes, chest armor, that stuff. To protect the heart."

"I'm pretty sure you don't think with your heart," said Silvan.

"No," said Jin. "But your emotions are integrated into your circulatory system. Protect the mind, protect the emotions. She thinks that should be enough."

Silvan assented that this made sense. She gazed at the Keep, too. "Are the Hive hunting us?"

"Zulmak and Hashladun retreated to the keep," Jin replied. "One Hunter reported that they're communing with the pyramid down there. I don't like it."

"They could get stronger," Silvan murmured. "Stronger than us, maybe."

Jin glanced at her, his purple eye lights dim. "You doubt the Light, then?"

"The Hive eat Light," Silvan replied. "Look what they did to Omar. What happens when the pyramid gives them outright Darkness powers? I don't doubt the Light. I fear how our enemies may use it against us."

"I trust the Light," said Jin quietly. "But I also trust the Darkness to try to snuff it out. I only hope Light is stronger."

"Hope is all we have, at this point," said Silvan.

Eris Morn lifted the helmet from the basin. For a moment, the metal shimmered with a green miasma, then it faded. "Try this on," Eris said, holding it out. "It should guard your mind from the influence of Darkness."

Jin took the helmet and put it on. He turned his head this way and that, peering through the visor. “I can’t tell much difference, but I didn’t have any nightmares to start with.” He pulled it off and handed it to Silvan. “Give it a try. I know you have a floating red friend up there.” He nodded at Dredgen Vale.

Silvan pulled the helmet on. It was a Titan’s helmet, heavy and too big. It smelled of the slightly oily breath of an Exo. But as soon as it was on, the lingering despair from the Nightmare vanished. Her heart grew lighter, as if an oppressive weight had lifted from her shoulders. She glanced around to make sure it was still there, which it was. But she could no longer feel it pressing down on her. Her bruised mind relaxed for the first time.

“Bramble?” she thought. “Are you still there?”

“Loud and clear,” her Ghost said in her head. “I don’t think the enchantment could work against me. I’m part of you, more or less.”

“So is the nightmare, more or less,” Silvan replied. “Anyway, good. I hope this helmet can shield you, too. Or maybe Eris can enchant your shell?”

“Hive magic on my _shell_?” Bramble exclaimed. “No way. I’ll take my chances without it.”

Silvan pulled off the helmet and handed it back to Jin. “It works like a charm.” As soon as the helmet slid off, the pressure of the nightmare flooded back in. Silvan glared at it. “Eris, how long until you can enchant my helmet?”

“I need more essence,” said Eris. She gazed at Silvan’s nightmare. “Yours is strong. Solid. Much essence to be found within. Lure it close, and I shall harvest it.”

Silvan gazed at Shin’s youthful face and its blank, alien expression. “Come here. Tell me about yourself.”

The nightmare was too happy to creep closer to her and whisper words of accusation to her sore mind, making her wish she could pass out, just to make it stop. It paid no attention when Eris Morn began to mutter, stripping wisps of black smoke out of it. The nightmare was not a person, only a phantom, and had no feelings. Silvan stood there and endured the nightmare’s onslaught, watching as Eris caught smoke in her fingertips and guided it into the Cryptoglyph’s basin. When it was full, Eris nodded. Silvan waved the nightmare off. “Shut up. That’s enough.”

The nightmare backed off a few feet, its insidious voice falling silent.

“Sorrow,” Eris said, gazing into the basin with her three veiled eyes. “Powerful essence of sorrow mixed with guilt. I do not question their existence, Guardian. We all carry such things. Yet, my enchantment is only a placebo against the true problem. You must seek forgiveness and resolution to lay this nightmare to rest.” She held out a hand. “Helmet.”

Silvan passed it to her and sat on a rock to wait. As she did, she saw Jarus Corbin standing a short distance away, waiting. She beckoned to him.

“Nightmare surgery, huh?” Jarus said, his cloak billowing slowly around him in the low gravity. “Back from my scouting run, by the way.”

“What’d you find?” Silvan asked, once more feeling weary.

Jarus pointed to the shadowy horizon. “Hive. Everywhere. They’re organized into armies. Eighteen armies of thralls within ten miles. Each one has two ogres and three wizards. I counted five squads of knights with acolyte support teams. We’re looking at about five thousand troops, all told. And that was just the few I spotted on my run. I’m sure there’s more.”

Silvan massaged her forehead. “Thanks, Jarus. Pass the word along, will you? The Vanguard needs to know what’s coming.”

Madrid approached, carrying a rifle that was held together with steel clamps. Jayesh trailed him at a safe distance. “Jarus! What’s the news?”

The Hunters conferred, Madrid casually holding the trace rifle. Silvan watched as frost slowly crept along the barrel in feather patterns. As Jayesh moved up beside her, she asked, “Did you get it working?”

“Ish,” the warlock replied. He never took his eyes off the gun. “I don’t think it should freeze up like that. But if the Hive are preparing to invade, maybe we need an edge.”

“Eris is fixing helmets so we don’t hear the nightmares,” Silvan said. “Have her harvest your nightmare for essence.”

Jayesh turned his head a little, just enough to check his nightmare in his peripheral vision. The door floated in midair, unmoving. “I’ll let her open it for me. I don’t want to know what’ll come out.”

Silvan glanced at the nightmare that attended Jarus Corbin. She wouldn't have noticed it, except Jarus flipped it off as he walked away. As it trailed after him, Silvan realized that it was a male warlock with a robot arm.

"Jarus's nightmare is Asher Mir?" Silvan asked.

Madrid watched him go. "Asher had a fireteam of two Hunters and himself," he said in a low voice. "After Asher's accident, the team dissolved. Corbin told me he didn't know how to offer sympathy without being patronizing."

"And the other?" Silvan asked.

Madrid shook his head. "I don't know her name, but similar story. Poor Asher."

Silvan had worked with Asher Mir before. He was a fellow Gensym Scribe, and was studying the Vex in a frantic attempt to stop his body from being completely machinoformed. He was also cantankerous and abrasive, and Silvan couldn't stand him. But now, seeing one of his old teammates, she wondered if she had judged him too harshly.

Madrid walked down the hill to an open spot and gazed down the cliff. He raised the Darkness rifle, took careful aim, and fired. A beam of dark blue flashed out, vapor swirling around it. Madrid fired one short pulse, studied the effect, then fired again, longer this time.

After several such test fires, and the gun didn't explode, nor did Madrid suddenly shrivel into a corpse, Silvan and Jayesh picked their way to his side. He pointed out a spot on the plain a hundred feet below. A wall of ice crystals had sprang up from his target. He fired again, drawing the rifle's beam along the ground. Ice crystals sprang up wherever it touched, some as high as ten feet.

"Here," Madrid said, offering the gun to Jayesh. "You're sensitive to Light and Dark. What happens when you use it?"

Jayesh took the rifle carefully and examined the frost forming along the barrel. Then he fired it several times, continuing Madrid's growing wall of ice spikes. At last he lowered it and scraped the frost off the barrel. "I think it needs more insulation around the splinter. But I …" The warlock trailed off, gazing at the rifle. "Comforting," he said at last. "Natural. Good. Like invading in Gambit."

Silvan blinked. "You play Gambit?"

Jayesh ignored the question. "It's not quenching my Light, but the lure is there, Madrid. I hope Mara Sov is happy."

"Let me try," said Silvan. Jayesh handed her the rifle. Silvan promptly fired it three times, drawing a smiley face in ice on the rocks below. The rifle was heavy and cold, and seemed to grow heavier the longer she used it. Then she stood still and tried probing it with her psychic sense, just to see what would happen. The pyramid splinter seemed docile enough, but if it was like putting the Traveler in a gun, that could mean trouble--

In the flick of an eyelash, Silvan was standing before a great white tree, its leafless branches spiraling upward in a great globe.

She stood on a frozen lake and gazed at a black pyramid rising above the ice.

Black pyramids sliced across Jupiter

Across Saturn

Across Mars

Mercury

Last of all lay Earth, the Traveler in shattered pieces, as a fleet of pyramid ships closed in.

_ We come bearing gifts, little lightbearer.  _

Silvan drew breath to scream and rediscovered her body, still standing there, gripping the rifle. She shoved it at Madrid and backed away, rubbing her numbed hands.

"Silvan?" Jayesh said. "What happened?"

"Keep it away from me," Silvan whispered. "I saw the Darkness."

Jayesh stepped forward at once. "Give me your hands."

Trembling a little, Silvan placed her icy hands in his. Jayesh gazed into her eyes, brown with blue sparks versus glowing silver. The comforting warmth of Light flowed into her, as if he was channeling his entire healing rift through his hands. Beside her, Bramble appeared, spinning his shell in a worried sort of way. He played a healing beam up and down her body. Between the two healers, the piercing cold ebbed away. But nothing could ease the fear.

"They're coming," she said with conviction. "I saw them taking the solar system. Thousands of pyramid ships."

"You saw what it wanted you to see," Jayesh said gently. "Remember the first rule of Darkness."

"It always lies?"

"Yes."

Silvan drew deep, calming breaths, but her gaze kept wandering from Jayesh to the weapon in Madrid's hands. Madrid watched her, frowning in concern. He leaned the rifle against a rock and wiped his hands on his pants, as if trying to scrub away the touch of Darkness.

"You really must stop trying to talk to guns," Jayesh said with a smile. "It only leads to trouble."

Silvan nodded. "I guess I should be more careful. I should have known better. Just … keep it away from me. At least you guys can use it."

"We're not going to," said Madrid. "The whole point of this was to build a Darkness weapon for Mara Sov so as to buy your freedom. You traded yourself for me, remember? Without this rifle, you'll be locked in the Dreaming City time loop indefinitely."

Silvan nodded. "I'm sure she could handle it, too. I am glad we succeeded. I just … didn't realize how powerful the Darkness is."

"You saw the pyramid underground," Jayesh said. "It did the same thing to me. It called me to come closer. Said it offered gifts."

"That's what it said to me!" Silvan exclaimed. "It's like … it's trying to seduce us."

"Are you surprised?" Jayesh said. "Evil always passes itself off as freedom, when all it does is enslave and bind. In the end, there's only death."

"So," Silvan said, "what about the ice gun? Is ice evil?"

Jayesh and Madrid looked at the rifle for a moment. Jayesh released Silvan's hands and patted her shoulder, then walked over and picked up the rifle again. "What do you think?" he asked Madrid.

Madrid folded his arms. "Ice is neither good nor evil," he pointed out. "It's the lack of heat, just as darkness is the lack of light. I think it might be a gateway toward luring us deeper into Darkness, but only if we choose to wander that direction."

"Right," said Jayesh. "Like the lesson Dredgen Yor taught us. The tool can become an idol, and once it does, watch out."

"So … what do we do, now?" Silvan asked. "Leave the moon and deliver the ice gun? That doesn't fix the nightmares. I don't want them following me around the solar system."

"Doesn't stop the Hive, either," said Madrid, gazing toward the scarlet keep. "They're engineering new tech up here. If they can make Zulmak, they can make more of him. Imagine an army of giant Knights attacking the City. We barely beat him off. In fact, we didn't win. We had to run for it."

"We can put a stop to that," said Jayesh grimly. "I have some ideas. But first, let's have Eris enchant our armor."


	14. I want to blow it up

Eris Morn only had two nightmares attending her when they climbed the hill to the Cryptoglyph. As they approached, Eris looked up from a stack of tattered papers covered in handwriting. "Toland's journal," she said, lifting the papers. "He embraced the song of the Deathsingers to transcend this plane. His death was not my fault." She looked at the two remaining nightmares. "Perhaps none of it was my fault."

"Can you enchant your own gear against the nightmares?" Jayesh asked.

Eris gazed at him a moment, her three eyes studying him from behind her mask. "I have considered it, but … I believe that seeking resolution for each specter is proving more effective." She carefully laid the pages aside. "However, you must have protection to fight effectively. Your helmet, warlock."

The essence Eris drew from Jayesh's nightmare door was dark red, like old blood. "Fear," Eris said, gathering it into the basin. "Much fear. You have experienced horrors recently."

"Yes, ma'am," said Jayesh. "My family was attacked. In the Tower."

Eris drew a breath through her teeth. "Your fear is understandable. Yet, one cannot live under such a shadow without becoming crippled. Such fear will fester into paranoia. Cast it out, warlock. Replace it with love. Be free."

When Jayesh put his helmet on, he stood straighter than he had since he’d arrived on the moon.

Madrid stepped forward and offered his helmet. “I’m not sure I have a nightmare anymore. I haven’t seen any following me around.”

Eris looked at him closely, then scanned the area. “Is that yours?”

Madrid didn’t look and didn’t answer. The nightmare resembling Jayesh had vanished. In its place, another had crept along behind him for some time, the one that Madrid refused to acknowledge. It had the exact shape of Prince Uldren, complete with a bullet hole in its forehead.

“Bring it close,” Eris said.

Madrid didn’t move.

Eris blinked at him. “I cannot harvest its essence if you do not face it.”

Slowly, Madrid turned his head and glanced at the nightmare out of the corner of one eye. He jerked his head at it. The nightmare drifted forward, trailing black smoke, its face stretching in a ghastly grin.

“Your hand struck down the Awoken Prince?” said Eris. When Madrid didn’t answer, Eris muttered, “Fascinating.” She raised her hands and muttered an incantation, drawing the black smoke off the nightmare. She gathered it into the basin and swirled it around. “Guilt,” she murmured. “Devouring, poisonous guilt. Oh my, Guardian. This will destroy you if you do not address it.”

“Just … enchant the helmet and get it over with,” said Madrid.

Eris’s three eyes studied his face for a long moment. Her face held a strange expression--partly of apprehension, partly of compassion. She turned her attention to infusing the essence into the helmet, but her chanting voice was low and thoughtful. The blackness shrank together and flowed into the helmet's plating, leaving behind a sheen of green light that slowly faded. Eris handed it to Madrid. "That will protect your mind from unwanted invasion. But you must guard your heart. Deal with the root cause of your nightmare in order to banish it."

Madrid walked away before she finished speaking.

"I'm so sorry," Silvan said, horribly embarrassed. "He's--he's got some issues."

"His problem is not with me," said Eris. "Nor mine with him. Help him talk about it, warlock. He must admit that a problem exists before a solution can be found."

Silvan nodded and sighed.

Jayesh stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Ms. Morn?"

Eris turned to him. "Yes?"

"The Hive are amassing under cover of the night shadow," said Jayesh, pointing at the horizon. "They'll be here in another day. I also suspect that Zulmak and Hashladun will make a reappearance then, too."

"Yes," said Eris pensively. She gazed at the darkening horizon, then turned toward the Scarlet Keep in the distance. "I feel Hashladun's hate. But it is also … abstracted. She is focused. Preparing a ritual, perhaps."

"Yes," Jayesh said. "So, I wanted to ask your advice about a plan of attack."

"Speak, then," said Eris, gazing at him.

Jayesh glanced at Silvan, then pointed at the keep. "I want to blow it up."

"The keep?" Silvan said incredulously. "Or just the army?"

"If we bring the building down," said Jayesh, "it will kill everything inside. I'm gambling that even Zulmak can't handle a whole castle falling on him. We could also kill the entire Scarlet Hive leadership in one blow. The army out there would have no one to lead them. I think they would scatter."

"You think big," said Eris. "I appreciate a Guardian who thinks beyond the sights of his rifle. But how will you do it?"

"That's the weak point in the plan," Jayesh confessed, looking down. "It's a big place. If we could get our hands on a couple thousand pounds of explosives, we could do it, no problem. But I don't know how to get any."

Silvan's Ghost, Bramble, appeared in a flash of blue Light. "I know how we could do it. But it would be very risky."

Everyone looked at the Ghost in his purple shell.

"I'm a fighting Ghost," Bramble explained. "I can pilot any piece of machinery our enemies have ever built. I spent centuries studying. To my never-ending disgust, that includes the biomachinery the Hive use."

"What biomachinery?" Silvan asked.

"You think the piles of crap everywhere are just litter?" Bramble said. "They decompose their own droppings and corpses to produce organic compounds and gasses that they use for energy and food. You've seen those orange crystals they store energy in. They're always in those piles of crap. If you can collect, oh, a thousand pounds of crystals, I and the other Ghosts can break them down and convert them into explosive compounds. But we don't have a lot of time. Night is coming. And night on the moon lasts for weeks."

Silvan stared at her Ghost in a sudden surge of hope and pride. "You could really do that?"

He turned to her, spinning his shell fiercely. "Remember Twilight Gap? I've gotten better since then. But we need lots of crystals, plus time to convert them, plus time to plant the bombs. It will take all the Guardians on the moon to pull this off."

"Right," said Jayesh. "Eris, any thoughts?"

Eris favored him with a rare smile. "I will continue to enchant gear for everyone. The Hive must not read your intent."

"Right." Jayesh summoned Phoenix. "Send a message to every Ghost here. Tell them the plan and what we need to do."

"Right," said Phoenix. He turned to Bramble. "Teach me, sensei!"

"Explosives manufacturing class, 101," Bramble replied. "Be there or be square!"

Word quickly spread among the Guardians on the moon. First to approach was Madrid, who had been standing a few yards off, surveying the shadows in the distance. Now he walked up with a grin. "We're taking down the keep? I like it. What's the plan?"

"Collect materials, first," said Silvan, watching other Guardians headed toward them. "Hold on, I need to explain to everyone."

Jin showed up next in his battered armor, carrying a tire on one shoulder. He dropped it and casually caught it as it bounced. "This your plan, Silvan?"

"His," Silvan said, nodding at Jayesh. Jayesh was pretending to be very busy reading his Ghost's holographic interface.

"Whoever's it is, I like it," said the Titan. "Just enough crazy to keep it intriguing." Jin clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "Let's go harvest Hive crap."

Other Guardians approached with questions and cheers. Several of them had Ghosts who knew how to synthesize explosives. Soon everyone had found their teams or joined existing ones. The Guardians scattered toward the entrances of the underground Hive dens or the Hellmouth, shouting challenges to each other.

"Let's get going," Silvan said to her team.

They exchanged fistbumps, then mounted their sparrows and took off toward the Temple of Crota.

* * *

"Madrid, love," said Rose in the Hunter's head.

It was a quiet moment between fights in the shadows of the underground temple. The other Ghosts were busy breaking down and storing orange crystals from a pile of Hive refuse. Rose was the only one still hidden. Phoenix had transmitted his entire payload to her, so she was keeping it safe for him. Rose hated showing herself, anyway.

Madrid was standing guard, watching out one doorway as Jin covered the other. Hive screeched in the distance, but the other Guardian teams were keeping them distracted. Rose took the opportunity to speak to her Guardian.

"Yes, Rose?" Madrid thought.

Rose hesitated. "I've been thinking. About that nightmare."

"Yes?" Madrid's mental voice chilled.

Rose had to go about this topic carefully, indeed. Their agreement had always been to never, ever bring up Uldren.

"Well … I don't understand why he's a nightmare. We saw him. I thought you had made peace with it."

Madrid's automatic hostility abated a little. She felt him thinking about it in the privacy of his mind, where she didn't go.

"Lots of reasons, love," he thought at last. "You saw the essence."

"Guilt?"

"Yes."

Rose waited in silence, giving him room to speak.

"I'm not sorry I killed him," Madrid thought at last. "I suppose there could have been a better place and time. But he was a twisted bastard who needed to go down."

Rose felt his conviction on this point. Uldren had killed so many of his own people for no discernible reason. He'd been a madman.

"Why the guilt, then?" Rose asked.

Madrid showed her a series of snapshots from his memory. Newly resurrected Uldren teaching Jayesh to dance. Gazing around the Dreaming City with wonder in his eyes. Watching him step through a portal into the Ascendant Realm. And the last memory, itself tinged in nightmare red. This was the source of the guilt and the nightmare. Rose felt the weight of it, the dragging self-condemnation in Madrid's heart.

"That's why," she said wonderingly. "That's why the nightmare was Jayesh and Uldren."

"Yes," Madrid thought, locking it away in the depths of his mind again. "Because of me, horrible things happened. And I … could only stand by and do nothing, because of my sentence."

"You can make amends now," Rose whispered. "Jayesh is here. And Uldren is alive."

"Nobody knows where he is."

"I could find him," Rose replied. "I know his Ghost."

"Later," Madrid thought. "If we survive this crazy attempt to smash a building. I don't even have a ship anymore. It's not easy to track someone across the system with no transport."

A couple of Hive acolytes rounded the corner and spotted Madrid. A short firefight ensued. Once the aliens were dead, Madrid added, "We'll talk about this some other time, Rose. I promise."

Rose assented with a small glow of happiness. Her Guardian seldom promised anything, because he always kept his word. Maybe they could resolve this and lay the nightmare to rest.

The team finished harvesting crystals and moved on, hunting for that tell-tale orange glow. Other Guardians sent messages by their Ghosts, relaying how much crystal they had gathered and where they were working. Madrid stood guard as his team searched and collected. But his eyes ached and burned, and his limbs felt slow and heavy. His sniper rifle was a burden on his shoulder or in the crook of his arm. How many days and nights had he been awake? He'd had one short nap after the Hellmouth, and that was all. The nightmare did not permit him to rest.

He didn't acknowledge it, but the Nightmare Uldren Sov weighed on his mind. Perversely, it was Uldren as he'd looked after resurrection, still with a bullet hole in his forehead. His guilt made out that he'd killed the Guardian as well as the madman.

He didn't think about it. He intentionally held that single NO as a shield in his mind, preventing the nightmare from whispering to him. But the guilt was fossilized inside him, exposed by the pyramid.

A cheer rang across the Ghost network. The Guardians had collected enough crystal and other sediments. Everyone returned to the camp to dump their collections and begin building explosives. With a couple hundred Guardians working together, the job had been accomplished in less than two hours.

As the team headed for the surface, Madrid noticed Silvan walking with her head down and arms crossed, as if favoring a wound. He touched her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Silvan shook her head. "Hashladun is hammering me. Trying to find out what we're doing." Her voice was quiet, strained. "My defenses aren't great right now. I'm afraid I'm leaking thoughts."

"Focus on something stupid and let her see that," said Madrid. "Tell her about clothes. Not even armor. Just clothes and shoes and hair styles."

Silvan's helmet turned toward him, managing to look accusing. "Clothing styles aren't stupid!"

"They are to the Hive. Load her up."

Silvan bowed her head again. As they stepped into the sun's slanted sunlight, Silvan said, "It's funny. The more I send her images of beautiful things, the angrier Hashladun gets. It's like … she wants to be beautiful and she can't."

"Battle of ladies' vanity?" Jin said, walking behind them with Jayesh. "Sounds vicious. Next thing you know, the Hive will declare war on fashion."

Silvan laughed. As they summoned their sparrows, she added, "That did it. Hashladun is so disgusted, she stopped attacking me. But now my head hurts."

"Healing for you, then," Jayesh said, drawing Lumina. He fired a ball of Light at Silvan. She flinched as it burst across her shoulders, then sighed and tilted her head back. "That feels so good. One more time?"

Jayesh blasted her again, then holstered his gun. "How do you feel?"

"Headache's almost gone," Silvan said, mounting her sparrow. "It freaks me out to see you just casually aim at me like that."

"It does everybody," said Jayesh. "Right after I built it, I ran with an unfamiliar fireteam. I healed one guy and he turned around and shot me dead. Not my proudest moment."

The team laughed about this all the way back to camp. There, Silvan let Bramble take over.

"All right!" the Ghost exclaimed, opening and closing his shell as if flexing his muscles. "Jayesh, may I borrow your tarp? Thanks. Silvan, spread it out, and everyone, dump the Hive crystal here. That's the way. Who picked up the barnacle crust? Over here, perfect. Now, I know somebody found wormspore. You there, you have it? Put it here, carefully. Ghosts, gather around. Here's the instructions for fabrication."

Dozens of Ghosts flocked to the piles of materials. They all examined a blueprint Bramble projected, then set about transmatting materials into their cores. Their Guardians watched, warily.

Silvan sat on a rock, pulled off her helmet, and rubbed her temples. Madrid sat beside her, and Jayesh sat on her other side. Silvan felt surrounded and very safe all of a sudden. She sighed and relaxed, closing her silver eyes.

"Hey, Jay," said Madrid.

"Yeah?" said Jayesh.

"How long did it take to train as a Sunsinger?"

Silvan opened her eyes and looked at her friends. Madrid had an intent expression.

Jayesh looked surprised. "Oh, a couple of months. It took a while to recover from losing my Dawnblade like that."

Madrid nodded, as if this was perfectly reasonable. But behind him, the nightmare of Uldren Sov lifted its head with a jerk and drifted closer. Silvan extended her mind to Madrid, trying to read him. To her surprise, his mind was open, almost unguarded. Talking to Jayesh about this was important, somehow.

She turned her head and sensed Jayesh, too. He was easy to read: genuine, friendly, eager to help. But he was guarded, too, curled inward ever so slightly. He didn't like talking about this. Or maybe he simply didn't want to tell Madrid about it.

"You seem adept at it, now," Madrid said. "I didn't know you could sing."

"Neither did I," Jayesh admitted. "A friend tutored me. I've been learning to play guitar, too."

"No kidding?" said Madrid, arching an eyebrow. "I guess the Sunsinger thing changed everything."

"I guess it did," said Jayesh. He looked down. Silvan sensed him closing himself off, for some reason. But Madrid stayed open. Neither of them said anything, though. Curiosity began to get the better of her.

Silvan asked, "How did you lose your Dawnblade, anyway? All I ever heard was that there was an accident in the Ascendant Realm."

Jayesh nodded. Outwardly, his expression didn't change. But inside, he recoiled in a burst of pain and horror. For a second, a gaping wound appeared inside him, leaking blood and Light, a wound he hadn't protected because he hadn't expected the question. He withdrew into himself like a turtle into an iron shell, clamping the doors shut. It was so sudden and visceral, so unexpected, that Silvan gasped. Hot tears stung her eyes.

"You know what, I don't want to know," she said, jumping to her feet. "I'm sorry, Jayesh." She hurried away across the camp, leaving Jayesh and Madrid staring after her. She hid behind a rock outcropping and mopped her face, allowing herself the luxury of a sob.

Bramble noticed. He left the crowd of Ghosts and Guardians and joined Silvan in her hiding place. "What happened?" he asked gently, flying close to her left cheek. "Why are you crying, star-child?"

"I was probing Madrid and Jayesh," she whispered. "They were having a weird conversation. Then I asked a question and Jayesh just … closed down. He's bleeding inside, Bramble. It was like a scream went off inside him. I shouldn’t have asked. I wish I hadn’t.”

“What in the world did you ask him?” Bramble said.

Silvan gulped, remembering the sense of his agony. “I asked what happened to his Dawnblade.”

Bramble’s pupil shrank to a pinprick. “Why would you ask that? Don’t you know what happened?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You _don’t_?” Bramble shook his head. “Silvan, it was eaten out of him by undead Riven. All us Ghosts know. His Ghost has threatened every other Ghost and Guardian with death and dismemberment if we bring it up.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she cried in a whisper. “I’d never have asked! Light and Darkness, Bram!”

“I thought you knew!” Bramble exclaimed. “You’re such a fangirl, I thought you knew all about him and what he did.”

“I knew he saved those Corsairs from the time loop,” Silvan sobbed into the sleeve of her robe. “I knew he changed disciplines afterward, but I just thought--I just thought he was awesome like that. Riven--Riven really--I didn’t know she could--I thought she was dead!”

“Ahamkara don’t really die,” Bramble said. He sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Silv? Here we’re on the edge of a really big battle and you have to go do this. Stop trying to read people.”

"It's a bad habit," she said, wiping her eyes over and over. "I'll never be able to look him in the face again."

"There's a shock," said Madrid, very dryly. He'd walked up, unnoticed, and stood leaning his elbow against the rock Silvan sheltered behind.

Silvan jumped. "Madrid! How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," said the Hunter. "Look, it's all right. Jayesh said he didn't mind you asking. He'll tell you the story, if you want to hear it."

"Oh no, I couldn't," Silvan exclaimed, aghast. "I felt him, Madrid. He's all hurt inside. I couldn't bear to listen to him tell it and--and feel that inside him."

"And you wonder why Hashladun's got your number," said Madrid, rolling his eyes. "Defend your mind, Silvan. Once we set foot in the keep, they'll be tearing at our minds, trying to drive us off or learn our plans. You've already had beating after beating, and that nightmare isn't helping. When we take off, you stay here and protect Eris Morn."

Silvan drew herself up in indignation. "But I want to help! I--"

"You're tired," Madrid said. "You've done too much. Stay here. You have Xenophage. Omar won't let anything happen to you or Eris."

"What about you?" Silvan said, trying to hide the quiver in her lower lip.

"I'll help plant charges," Madrid said. "That Ghost of yours taught the rest to make the scariest little bombs I've ever seen. Keep an eye on him."

Bramble emoted a smile. "Thank you!"

Silvan took Madrid's hand in both of hers and clung to it for a moment. "Be careful," she said. "Zulmak's in there. Don't blow yourself up by accident."

"My death count stands at eight," said Madrid. He pulled her into a hug. "It won't go any higher. You bought my freedom, and I'm not going to throw it away." 

"Good," said Silvan, pulling away. "Take the ice gun. Call it a trial run."

"I will," said Madrid. "Hopefully we'll knock the keep down before nightfall. It's in about eight hours, and that Hive army is creeping in."

Silvan glanced at the horizon, partly hidden behind a hill. "Please hurry. And be careful."

* * *

Hashladun stood at the topmost window in the Scarlet Keep, gazing across the moonscape toward the onrushing army of Guardians. They were a ragtag bunch--no strategy, no formation. Some openly rode sparrows toward the gates of the keep. Others darted through the shadows, attempting to stay out of sight. But to Hashladun's eyes, each one of them glowed like a small sun, the Light within them filling their muscles and veins. Light. Necessary. Life-giving to thralls born dead. And burning, hateful brightness that exposed every inch of her hideousness. How she still seethed over the visions the Guardian female had shown her: human females adorning their smooth bodies with draperies of many colors, arranging the fur on their heads into artful patterns. She looked at her scaled, clawed hands. For a Hive Witch, they were aristocratic. But they would never be smooth and beautiful.

So Hashladun would destroy every last human. Especially the females.

She studied the Guardians, counting them, tasting their minds from a distance. About half were female, and few had defenses against her psychic evaluation. Only one male blocked her out completely. He seemed to have no thoughts at all, just a blank mind that nearly slipped by her. Hashladun noted his existence. That was one to watch and kill. But the females must die, first. She'd strip the Light from their bodies, herself.

She reached for Zulmak. She found him deep below the Keep, in the passages leading toward the Pit of Heresy.

"The Lightbearers approach," she told him.

"I will destroy them all," he replied, his thought-voice as heavy as grinding stones. He had been that way ever since his resurrection from beneath a mountain of bodies. He gave credit to the Secret Sister, she who sought to escape the Sword Logic.

Hashladun raised a hand to her chest, where her worm lay. Its hunger was growing. She must kill and feed it upon death, or it would devour her. This was the Sword Logic--survival of the fittest. But long had the Court of Crota wearied of it and sought a better way. They had secretly removed worms from thralls in hidden laboratories, then fed the thralls on Light instead of death. Few survived, but the ones who did instilled her with hope.

The only way to acquire Light was to strip it from a Guardian. And here came Guardians, seeking to end Hashladun and her empire of hatred. She would allow them entrance. Then she would divide them, isolate them, trap them, and drag them into the Pit. None would ever return.


	15. Charges

Madrid, Jin, and Jayesh sped toward the Scarlet Keep on their sparrows. Jin took point. The Titan had been chuckling all the way there. When Madrid asked him what was funny, Jin replied, "Zulmak is mine. The rest of you, get ready to pass the popcorn."

Madrid eyed the Titan warily and didn't ask. But maybe he'd see this exotic Aestivalis Mark Two in action, at last.

As they approached the gates of the Keep, Madrid was disconcerted to see them standing open, as if inviting the Guardians inside. He mentally checked for psychic pressure and found that he was being probed, so gently that he’d almost missed it. He held up his thought of No to block it out. How many other Guardians were being examined by the witches in the tower?

“Hey guys,” he said to his team, “shield your minds. The Hive here are big psychic users.”

“Shields up,” said Jin. “If anybody looks in my mind, they get pin-ups.”

“Trying,” Jayesh said in a low voice. “I don’t have a lot of experience with psychic attacks.”

“Focus on one thing and don’t think about anything else,” said Madrid. “Fill your mind with that thing.”

A flicker of fire touched Jayesh’s robes, outlining the shape of wings at his back. “They get my song, then.”

Madrid looked at him sharply as they dismounted from their sparrows at the gates. A Sunsinger was a powerful asset against the Hive. Jayesh’s song in the Hellmouth had infuriated the witches. “If we run into a Darkness patch, sing for us. Light it up.”

Jayesh gave him a thumbs up.

The Guardians crept through the gate and scattered into the Keep, avoiding the Hive whenever possible. This confused the aliens, who expected a head-on attack. Swarms of thralls flooded into the ground floor chambers, only to meet no resistance. They milled around, hissing and shrieking to each other. Several Knights appeared, brandishing bone swords, only to peer around in disappointment. The Guardians were nowhere to be found.

High above the heads of the aliens, Hunters crept along ledges, finding load-bearing beams and quietly setting explosives. Warlocks flew in silence from spot to spot. But the Titans formed ranks and attacked the Hive at the far end of the keep, drawing their attention. The Hive leaped eagerly to the attack, missing two thirds of the Guardians present.

Madrid and Jayesh worked together, studying the building, pointing out to each other where to place charges. Other Guardians whispered to them over the team frequency about where charges had already been placed. Quietly, coordinating movements, the Guardians worked their way through the Keep.

“All charges placed?” Madrid said an hour later.

“All placed,” the other teams replied.

“Clear out,” Madrid said. “Our Ghosts will detonate the charges from a distance. Titans, move out.” He motioned for Jayesh to head for the gates. The warlock nodded and obeyed. Madrid followed behind, creeping from shadow to shadow.

Up ahead, Jayesh landed on a ledge and peered into a hallway. He held up a hand to signal a halt. Madrid crept up to the doorway and looked out, too. Then he and Jayesh scrambled backward, into hiding.

Zulmak advanced up the hallway, stooped to avoid the ceiling, carrying his huge bone sword in his talons. A reek of rot and the heat of soulfire preceded him in a wave, beating against the Light of the Guardians. The spikes on his armor scraped each pillar as he passed. As he drew opposite their doorway, the monster halted and peered down it, his three eyes alight with cruelty. “I smell your Light,” he said in a voice like gravel grinding together. “You will die, Lightbearers!”

Jayesh was pressed against the wall five feet from Zulmak’s head. He didn’t move, but he whispered through the radio, “He’s going to see me, Madrid--” The panic bled through his words.

Madrid whipped out a trap grenade and flicked the switch. “Oh no he’s not.” He darted into the open and stuck the grenade to the floor. Its trigger laser shone straight up, onto the ceiling.

Zulmak saw this and roared with triumphant laughter. Lifting his sword, he pushed into the narrow corridor, one shoulder spike knocking Jayesh out of hiding. But Zulmak focused only on the Hunter. He stamped forward and slashed with his sword. Madrid ducked, the sword whistling over his head. Then Zulmak stepped into the grenade’s trigger beam.

The grenade detonated between Zulmak’s feet. The armor encasing his left ankle shattered. Green soulfire licked out of the wound. Zulmak stumbled and roared.

“Go!” Madrid yelled at Jayesh. “Run!”

Jayesh nodded and ducked out the doorway, into the hallway outside. There, he yelled, “Hive Witch!”

Madrid backed away from Zulmak, rifle raised, trying to place a bullet in one of those eyes. Each bullet sparked off the bone armor an inch away. “Jay, can you run?”

“No! She’s got an army with her. I’m completely outnumbered!”

“Need help?” Jin’s voice broke in over the radio. “On my way.”

Madrid risked turning his back on Zulmak and running down the corridor. He had to get some distance to bring his heavy sniper rifle to bear on the monster. But Zulmak stamped after him, turning sideways to fit down the corridor, huffing hot breath between his teeth.

Jayesh returned, ducking into the corridor with a pack of thralls and acolytes after him. Behind them, in the doorway, flew Hashladun herself, her bone halo ringing her head. She chanted a constant string of syllables, urging the thralls onward, and drawing Darkness in about them. Pinned between the Hive and the giant, Jayesh chose the lesser of two evils. He supercharged his Light and burst into flame. He turned to face Hashladun and began to sing. As he sang, he hurled fireballs into the massed thralls and acolytes. Aliens shrieked as they died, scrambling backward to avoid the blazing Guardian.

Zulmak halted and turned, his attention drawn by the heat and noise. Madrid stopped, had his Ghost transmat his heavy sniper rifle into his arms, and drew a bead on Zulmak’s head. It wasn’t as powerful as Xenophage, but his rifle was rated for ogres and dragons. The first slug tore off one of Zulmak’s horns. The second plowed into the soft flesh beneath. Zulmak roared and sagged against the wall, the bone sword drooping to the floor.

Hashladun swooped over Jayesh’s glow and flew to Zulmak. Pressing her clawed hands to Zulmak’s head, she began to sing softly. The room darkened, the lights dimming. 

Madrid fired at Hashladun. The bullet sparked off an impenetrable energy shield, the kind generated by an external crystal. “Jayesh!” he called. “See any Hive crystals? Big ones that make shields?”

“No!” Jayesh called back, interrupting his song. “Most of these Hive are dead, and those two big ones are busy. Get out of there and run!”

Madrid pelted toward the slumped giant and the witch. He drew on his Light like a springboard and leaped over them. For a second, he looked into Zulmak's eyes as he sailed past the craggy face. The eyes tracked him, alive with malice. As Madrid came down, one of the huge hands whipped out, far too quick for something so large. The claws snagged in Madrid’s cloak. It jerked him backward, off his feet. The hand then shifted and closed around his body, lifting him upside down, his arms pinned to his sides.

“It’s got me!” he yelled.

Jayesh cursed and fired at the monster’s arm. Lumina’s bullets glanced off the armored arm. Zulmak chuckled and climbed to his feet, gripping the Guardian in one hand. Hashladun flew to examine him. Upside down, Madrid stared into the glowing dome that passed for eyes on top of the witch’s head. “I should have shot you,” he said to her.

Hashladun replied, in English, “We will feast upon your Light.” Her voice tore at his ears, every word steeped in loathing of both himself and his very language.

Zulmak turned toward the doorway and spotted Jayesh. He raised his sword and slammed it into the floor. The warlock barely avoided the blow and ran for cover. Zulmak didn’t bother hunting him. He’d already caught a prize. Carrying Madrid in his powerful grip, he squeezed through the doorway into the larger hall and strode down it, still having to duck to avoid the ceiling. Hashladun sailed after him, singing a screechy song of triumph.

“Madrid!” Jayesh cried over the radio. “What do I do? I can’t stop them!”

The blood rushing to Madrid’s head made his skull pound. He couldn’t even struggle because the knight gripped him so tightly. He expected at any second to have the life beaten out of him against the ground. “Find--the crystal--giving her the shield,” he gasped. The witch’s song wormed past his psychic resistance, muddying his thoughts, filling his head with Darkness. He couldn't think, couldn't plan, couldn't breathe.

After what seemed like hours of walking, Zulmak and Hashladun turned a corner and entered a brood chamber. Slimy orange membranes stretched from wall to wall, supporting rows of glowing yellow eggs. Unborn thralls squirmed inside. The floor crawled with worms, waiting their chance to infest a host and begin feeding upon death.

Zulmak lifted Madrid and slammed him against an organic pillar. Madrid sank into its spongy surface an inch, stunned, black spots whirling before his eyes. Before he could recover enough to free himself, Hashladun stabbed huge bone spikes through his clothing and flesh, pinning him to the pillar.

"They're going to strip the Light out of me," Madrid said on the team channel. His voice was hoarse. "Just blow the charges and bring the place down."

"No way," Jayesh replied in a whisper. He must be hiding somewhere near. "I'm not leaving you behind, Madrid, not this time."

Zulmak lifted a huge stone and began to sharpen his bone sword with quick, practiced movements. Hashladun flew across the room and down an adjoining passage, probably to fetch ritual implements. Nightmares hung near the ceiling--bodies of limp, undead Guardians, bowed with the weight of fear or despair. One of them was Uldren Sov. It stared at Madrid. It would probably watch him die.

"Jin is on his way," Jayesh whispered. "He got held up by thralls. The others are waiting for the all clear before they blow the charges."

"I appreciate it," Madrid said. He writhed against the spikes holding him down. He managed to tear free from one holding his left arm. "If things go south, Jay, get out of here."

"I'm not letting them carve you up," Jayesh replied.

Madrid faced his nightmare for the first time. He gazed into that wasted face, taking in the lopsided haircut, the staring eyes, the sad remains of royal armor. "Jayesh," he said, low and even. "Do you know why you were my nightmare?"

"No," Jayesh whispered.

Madrid locked eyes with the image of Uldren. "Because I watched you enter the Ascendant Realm for me. You saved people I couldn't save. And the next time I saw you, you'd had your Light and your eyes torn out."

Jayesh was silent.

"But you were saved," Madrid said, bitterness creeping into his voice. "By a young Crow. No memory, barely able to use his own Light. And he flung himself into the abyss to rescue you." He glared at the nightmare. "He behaved more like a Guardian than I did. You have no idea how that ate at me. Day after day, all through the time loop. Uldren Sov, the man I executed, was a better Guardian than I was. You sacrificed your Light for me. You, a kid barely older than Uldren. I'm almost three hundred years old. And I was shown up by a couple of kinderguardians."

"I didn't know," Jayesh whispered. "I'm sorry … I guess?"

"It's not your fault," Madrid said. "It's not even Uldren's. He behaved as a Guardian should. I'm the one who screwed up. I'm the one who listened to Riven. And now … it's not worth it. Just kill these Hive and get me out of here."

Zulmak growled something unintelligible and stabbed his sword into the pillar a few inches from Madrid’s ribs. The message was clear: //Shut up. Madrid kept perfectly still, holding his breath, gazing up the huge blade to the knight’s furious gaze. After a moment, Zulmak wrenched his blade free and returned to sharpening it. Madrid kept quiet, but Jayesh whispered, “That was close.”

Suddenly a new voice spoke over the radio: the fearless, slightly modulated voice of Jin Valis. "That was some great introspection, Madrid. Very insightful. Good job. That'll clear that nightmare out for sure."

The Titan stepped into the brood chamber. Madrid barely recognized him. His battered armor had sprouted purple crystals--three huge spikes from his shoulders and back. His right arm had been completely encased in a five-foot-long gun barrel. His eyes and mouth burned with purple Void light behind his helmet's face plate. Tubes rippling with energy looped under his arms and over one shoulder, feeding from his chest into the gun.

"What the hell is that?" Madrid blurted.

"This is the Aestivalis Mark two," Jin replied. "I told you, I'm the scariest Titan in the Vanguard."

Zulmak rose to his feet, jaws opening in a grin. Here was a challenger worthy of his vast strength. Jin faced him and braced his feet on the slimy floor. “I’ll tank the big guy. Jayesh, free Madrid and you two run for it. I’ll play rearguard.”

Jayesh stepped out of the shadows behind him. He carried the Darkness rifle in both arms. “Let’s see what happens when you combine Light and Dark,” he said. The words were brave, but his voice quivered. Jayesh was facing his own demons to rescue his friend.

Madrid braced himself.

* * *

Back at the base camp, Silvan stood on the hilltop beside Eris Morn, gazing toward the Scarlet Keep. Most of the Guardians had reported in, confirming that they’d planted the explosives. But they were waiting until all Guardians had cleared the keep, and there was still one team inside. And Silvan couldn’t reach Madrid, Jayesh, or Jin.

Meanwhile, the Hive army in the night shadow were creeping closer. Many Guardians drove off on sparrows to slow them down, and already the encroaching army flickered with bursts of Light and explosions. Silvan turned from point to point, watching the battle, watching the keep. 

“Do you sense anything?” she asked Eris.

Eris Morn’s veiled eyes were fixed on the Keep, unblinking. “Hashladun has captured prey. She gloats over a victim, preparing to destroy it layer by layer.”

Tears stung Silvan’s eyes. “Who?” she exclaimed.

“Your Awoken Hunter,” Eris said. “The tall fellow.”

“Madrid,” Silvan whispered. “What can I do? Should I go after them?”

Eris held out a hand. “Join me. We will combine our strength to interfere with Hashladun.”

Silvan took Eris’s hand, cold even through her glove. She opened her sore, tired mind, and mentally joined hands with Eris, as well. Eris’s mind was calm and steady, like a rock in a churning sea. It was not what one might expect when looking at her ruined face and the foul tears that streamed down her cheeks. But Eris was unafraid. And her lack of fear made her strong.

Silvan anchored herself in that calmness. From there, she and Eris sought Hashladun’s mind. It was easy to find: a seething, burning core of hate and distilled wickedness. To Silvan’s surprise, Eris didn’t bother attacking that mind. Instead, she laughed at it. Inside her mind, she laughed in scorn at the Hive witch’s evil, picturing it as the tiny scratchings of an insect under a pebble.

Hashladun’s awareness snapped toward them, the hatred flaring up in a snarl that was almost audible. She flew on a cushion of pride, and being laughed at was the one thing she could not tolerate. And Eris knew this.

Hashladun’s attack came like the lash of a whip: searing pain, burning like acid, intended to scorch and wound. Silvan flinched backward behind Eris, sheltering behind that stone-like mind. Eris let the attack slide off. It found no purchase against her defenses. On a table beside her lay various trinkets gathered by other Guardians, and no more Nightmares plagued her. Eris had made peace with her dead fireteam, and in that peace, she had gained strength against the Hive.

As Silvan mentally hid behind Eris, she sensed another mind probing her. She looked up to see a Hive witch floating in the distance, ahead of the approaching army. It was studying their encampment, figuring out the best means of attack.

Silvan broke her focus from Hashladun. Leaving Eris to battle her, Silvan slung Xenophage off her shoulder and into her arms. She slid a fresh ammo belt into the feed tray. “Omar, I have a million Hive to kill.”

“We’ll give them the whole nine yards,” the dead Guardian replied in her head.

* * *

Hashladun had returned to the brood chamber, intending to begin the ritual to harvest Madrid’s Light. But Eris’s attack of laughing her to shame had entirely distracted her. Hashladun floated in midair, facing the wall, her arms full of ritual implements, snarling at her unseen foe.

Zulmak swung his sword at Jin. The Titan danced sideways, surprisingly light on his feet for having transformed into a walking arsenal. He raised the barrel of the Aestivalis and fired.

A beam of eyeball-searing Void Light scorched across Zulmak’s chest armor. It cut through the bone armor in a cloud of foul-smelling smoke, burning into the flesh beneath. Zulmak’s wounds erupted into green soulfire. Zulmak screamed, his voice reverberating off the walls. The thralls in the eggs screeched, too. Zulmak went berserk, slashing and stabbing at Jin. Jin raised his left arm and summoned a Void shield, parrying the blows with it. Whenever he saw an opening, he blasted the knight with another beam from the Aestivalis.

Jayesh ran toward the pillar holding Madrid. He lifted the Darkness gun and fired. The icy beam created a ledge of ice a few feet from the floor. Jayesh built a ragged staircase out of ice, fog streaming from the barrel of the weapon. Then he leaped up to where Madrid was pinned.

“Nice,” Madrid said, flinching as the warlock ripped out the bone spikes holding him. “Darkness as a utility power. Who’d have guessed?”

“It’s just ice,” Jayesh panted, flinging spikes to the floor in handfuls. He took Madrid’s hands and peeled him out of the imprint he’d made in the pillar. “Ice isn’t good or evil. I can work with ice.”

Madrid stepped onto the frozen ledge Jayesh had made beneath his feet. It was slippery, already beginning to melt in the warmth of the brood chamber. As they jumped to the floor, Madrid said, “Do me a favor. Leave me that gun and clear out of here.”

Jayesh handed it over. “I’m not leaving my team.”

“Then stand in the doorway and Lumina us,” Madrid said, lifting the Darkness gun. “I’m going to ice some eggs.” As Jayesh scurried away, Madrid trained the ice beam on the eggs and froze each of them solid. It might not kill the young thralls inside, but there was a good chance it might. Those things would have feasted on his Light. He’d give them Darkness, instead.

Once the eggs were iced, Madrid trained the gun on Zulmak, encasing his feet with ice and freezing him to the floor in a circle of cold and stiff worms. Zulmak roared and hacked at his own feet with his sword.

Then Madrid aimed at Hashladun.

She had been going to torture him to death, him and his Ghost together. She’d probably been the one who had torn the Light out of Omar Agah and transferred him to an insect body. Death was too good for her, but it was the only justice he could administer. He fired the beam of cold and struck her energy shield. Hashladun ignored him, occupied with some unseen psychic battle. Madrid kept pouring cold energy into that shield. It began to frost over, encasing the witch in an opaque globe. The weight dragged her to the floor. Madrid stuck her there and piled ice over her until she was nothing but a mound of blue crystals.

Nearby, the Aestivalis flashed again and again, cutting away Zulmak’s armor with surgical precision. The Knight dealt Jin a blow that shattered his Void shield and drove him into the wall. Jin staggered to his feet, shaking his arm, which was twisted in an odd position, his elbow broken. Another void shield flickered around his arm and went out.

Madrid shifted his ice beam to Zulmak, drawing a line of ice along his sword arm to his shoulder, immobilizing it. Zulmak snarled and flexed, melting the ice with a burst of soulfire from within. He swatted Madrid aside with the flat of his blade, throwing the Hunter into a sticky mass of membrane. As Madrid struggled free, Zulmak rained blows upon Jin, backing him into a corner and cutting him to pieces.

"Guardian down," Rose's soft voice said in Madrid's head.

Madrid snarled and tore free. He poured ice powers into Zukmak, freezing him in vertical sweeps of the beam. Arms, legs, head, torso, quenching the soulfire in loud hisses. Soon Zulmak had been converted to a white statue, still glowing from within.

Madrid ran across the chamber, slipping on the icy floor, and added his Light to Jin's hovering Ghost. She drew the Exo's body back together, mending him with pulses of Light, and restored him to life.

"Well, that sucked," Jin said, climbing to his feet. "Don't let that guy back you into a corner. Also, hold on a minute." The Titan studied the frozen giant. Then he charged forward, leaped, and slammed shoulder-first into Zulmak's chest.

The ice cracked. Zulmak was not frozen solid, so he didn't shatter. But he toppled backward onto the frozen eggs and crushed them like glass.

"Let's go," said Jin, raising the barrel of the Aestivalis in salute.

Suddenly, somewhere overhead, the thunder of an explosion rolled through the keep.

"Guys, we have to move!" Jayesh yelled from the doorway. "The Hive found the explosives and the idiots are setting them off!"

The Guardians ran for it.


	16. Nightmares laid to rest

The first force of Hive reached the Vanguard encampment. Eris Morn was engaged in holding Hashladun’s attention, so Silvan was left to defend her, along with a handful of Redjacks and a small group of Guardians.

A group of thralls had arrived at the foot of the cliffs and were trying to climb them. Acolytes ran up the path to the hilltop, only to meet Silvan with Xenophage. Witches gathered on the plain below, singing enchantments around a squad of knights, preparing for a stronger attack. And meanwhile, drawing ever closer, the main body of the army approached, step by step.

Xenophage cut through ranks of Hive, Omar cheering with every kill. Silvan glanced up and saw that she was alone--the other Guardians were gathered on the edge of the cliff, watching the witches and thralls.

“What are you guys doing?” Silvan called, mowing down several acolytes and taking a boomer bolt in the shoulder. She hissed and whirled behind a rock, letting Bramble heal the wound.

“We have a plan,” one of the Guardians called. She recognized Jarus Corbin, the Hunter who had scouted for her. He and the others were bent over the old tires they had gathered from the ruins.

“You’re playing a _game?_ ” Silvan exclaimed. “We have to protect Eris and that’s all you can think about?”

“Cool it, warlock,” said Corbin. “Don’t doubt the ingenuity of Hunters.” He lifted a tire above his head. Then he tossed it down the cliff.

Silvan stepped out of hiding in time to see the wheel spinning and bouncing down the cliff side, straight toward the thralls. Several of them ducked aside, but they saw what it was and weren’t concerned.

When the tire was right in the middle of them, it exploded. Thralls flew in all directions, wounded and dying. They were the most confused thralls Silvan had ever seen.

The Hunters cheered and exchanged high fives. Two were already packing another tire with more explosives.

“I can’t put that genie back in the bottle,” Bramble confessed in her head. “I taught all their Ghosts to make bombs. And we might have gathered slightly more materials than we actually needed. So … extra bombs.”

“Remind me to kiss you when this fight is over with,” Silvan panted. "Extra bombs are exactly what we need right now."

The witches around the squadron of knights parted. The knights all burned with soulfire. They charged at the path and ran up it toward Silvan, brandishing bone swords and shields. The witches trailed behind them.

A tire rolled past Silvan and bounced down the path toward the knights. Jarus Corbin stood with his hands on his knees, watching it go. When it reached the first Knight, he said to his Ghost, "Now!"

The tire exploded with a concussion that knocked the knights staggering. Two of them fell dead. Silvan followed this up with Xenophage, punching through shields and armor like paper. But she was running low on ammo.

"I need to reload," she said to Corbin.

He nodded between pulse rifle bursts. "Do it. We've got this." Other Guardians were running up to join the fight. Silvan dashed toward the ammo lockers stashed at the foot of Eris's little cliff.

As Silvan dug out another ammo belt, she heard Eris chanting in a low mutter, working her stolen Hive magic. Silvan glanced out at the Keep, automatically looking for her team.

Smoke billowed from the tower at various levels. As she watched,fire flashed and more smoke burst from the tower's side. The explosives were going off.

Silvan climbed the hill to Eris, heart pounding. "Did the others make it out?"

Eris kept chanting and shook her head a little. 

A dizzying wave of fear struck Silvan. She had to sit on the ground or fall down. She opened her mind and reached for Madrid, since he was the one the Hive had been going to kill.

Impressions of running. Fear. Focus. Crashing sounds, smoke, chaos. He was alive, at least.

Silvan sought for Jayesh, next. After a second, she found him, also running and terrified. She looked for Jin, too, which was harder, because Exo minds were harder to read. But he was there. Instead of fear, Jin was brimming with cool, calculated hatred of the Hive. He was performing an action as he ran. It read like he was firing a gun. Probably keeping the Hive off the other two.

Eris's chanting synchronized to the rhythm of the team's pounding feet. She was speeding them on, adding clarity and direction to their minds. Silvan observed this in growing awe. Silvan had psychic capabilities, but she had never considered using them to beef up the minds of others, aiding them in combat or survival.

A burst of triumph and relief emanated from her team. They'd made it out of the Keep. This was followed by a wave of dread, and the roar of a voice that echoed all the way to where Silvan sat. She stood up, peering at the tower. Emerging from the smoky gates was Zulmak. Wounded and bleeding soulfire, the monster was pursuing her friends.

Silvan leaped off the hill, parachuted to the ground, and summoned her sparrow. She rested Xenophage across the handlebars and shot toward the Scarlet Keep at full throttle. She had no time to feel fear, or worry, or anything. She had to save her team and nothing else mattered.

"Omar, time to score a big kill."

"Oh, is it that big dude from before? Zulmak? I hoped I'd get a chance to take him down." Omar would have danced with glee, if he could have.

Silvan rounded an outcropping and drew level with the gates, just as the keep's tower disintegrated. For a moment the entire structure seemed to shiver, like a warrior with a mortal wound. Then, in slow motion, it caved in on itself. Its horned crown sank straight down, crushing each floor as it went, as if the tower were made of dust. The outer layer was made of some type of hardened carapace, and splintered like glass. Dust and smoke exploded sideways in a blinding cloud. Zulmak disappeared amid the dust. For a second, as the tower fell apart, Silvan glimpsed thousands of nightmares streaming away from it, as if the outer walls of the tower were made of them.

A shockwave of Hive screams and magic burst forth, staggering Silvan. She had to release the accelerator or lose control of her sparrow. She drifted sideways, enduring the assault, as the dust cloud engulfed her. Rage, despair, fear, and anguish tore at her mind. She threw up mental shields against it, wishing for Eris’s strength.

Bramble touched her mind, adding his own cheerful Light to her tired mind. Then, unexpectedly, Omar did, too. His Light bled into hers and Bramble’s, strengthening, reassuring, bolstering her flagging defenses. For a moment, he felt like a fellow member of her fireteam, kneeling beside her with his hand on her shoulder, smiling. “Don’t give up, my girl,” he said. “This won’t last long. It’s ten thousand Hive dying at once. This is victory, not defeat.”

“Thank you, Omar,” Silvan thought. “And you too, Bramble.”

She sensed Bramble regarding Omar’s Light thoughtfully. But all the Ghost said was, “I’m here for you, star-child.”

The wave of anguish from the keep’s collapse was already fading. Silvan leaped off her sparrow, knelt behind a boulder, and steadied Xenophage on it, peering down the sights. It hummed with Omar’s eagerness, practically firing itself. Void Light gathered in a haze around the barrel. "Wait for a visual," she whispered. "Wait."

She reached for her team again. Pain. Confusion. Suffocation. Someone was dying and the others were trying to save him, but the impressions were confused. Maybe all of them had been caught in the collapsing tower. She tried to send them a burst of calm and clarity, the way Eris did.

Zulmak's horned silhouette loomed out of the dust. He raised his sword and brought it slashing down. Someone in her team screamed.

Silvan's inhibitions vanished. All she knew was fighting adrenaline. She aimed Xenophage with iron steadiness, targeting Zulmak's head, compensating for range. Her finger found the trigger and held it down.

Pellet after pellet of Light and bullets punched through the monster's skull. No matter how much soulfire licked out to rebuild it, it could not keep up with the sheer destructive fury of a vengeful Guardian's Light. Zulmak staggered backward, dropping his sword, trying to shield his head with his arms. Silvan kept firing, each pellet cutting straight through the arms. Her own Light crackled along Xenophage's barrel, joining Omar's in tracing a path of destruction.

Before Zulmak could fall, Silvan lifted her machine gun and sprinted toward him, leaping into the air in a long glide. She fired while airborne, taking out those three glowing eyes. As she descended, she lobbed a grenade into Zulmak's open jaws.

She didn't bother to watch the resulting explosion. Omar's psychic cheering told her everything.

She landed in a run and pelted toward her team. Dust enveloped her in a blinding cloud. "Madrid!" she yelled. "Jayesh! Jin! Where are you guys?"

"Over here," someone called.

Silvan homed in on the sound. To her dismay, she arrived at a chunk of wall the size of a house. It had crumbled into jagged beams and hardened Hive organic matter. Jin was heaving at a huge beam with one hand, his purple eyes turned toward hers in desperation. "They're both trapped," he said.

Silvan took in the crystals protruding from his back, the huge gun barrel on his arm, the tubes conducting Light from his chest. A vast wound had been opened in his back by the monster’s sword, but his Ghost was mending it with pulses of Light. So this was the Aestivalis weapon. At the moment, Silvan cared less about its power than its precision. "Can you cut the beam apart?"

"Yes," said Jin. "Catch the pieces so they don't crush them worse."

Silvan gripped the end of the beam. Jin ignited his laser with a whoosh like a welding torch. It sliced through the beam in a slow, smooth cut. Silvan caught the end and tossed it aside.

They worked together, cutting apart the beam and wall material, eating into the rubble. Finally they reached Jayesh and Madrid, deep under the collapsed wall.

The Hunter had tried to shield the Warlock as the debris fell on them. They were crushed together under a broken beam. Madrid lay across Jayesh, motionless, blood trickling from a crack in his helmet. Jayesh lay with his head on one arm, as if sleeping. But the flickering light of a weak healing rift surrounded them, as if he had died while trying to keep them alive.

Silvan knew, logically, that their Ghosts could resurrect them in a few minutes. They weren't dead forever. She held that thought in her mind as she helped Jin heave the beam off them. But the rest of her mind, the illogical part, saw her friends dead and burst into screaming and crying. She held it in and worked in silence, but the cries of grief inside her went on and on.

As they dragged the bodies free, both Ghosts appeared, their shells open in spheres of protective Light.

"Are they all right?" Silvan blurted.

Rose and Phoenix looked at her incredulously.

"No, because they're _dead_ ," said Phoenix. "But we'll get them up in a minute. Don't cry."

"I'm not crying," said Silvan with a sob in her voice. She didn't resist when Jin put an arm around her shoulders. His armor was hard and cold, but the gesture was comforting.

The Ghosts pulsed Light into their partners, mending the damage and restoring them to life. Madrid and Jayesh stirred, flexing their limbs, sitting up, looking around. “Oh, hey,” said Madrid, catching sight of Silvan and Jin. “Thanks for the rescue.” He climbed to his feet and helped up Jayesh. The warlock stooped and dragged a rifle out of the debris--the Darkness gun they had worked so hard to build. It was coated in dust, but otherwise looked unharmed. Jayesh held it out to Madrid. “I saved it after all. I thought I’d lost it.”

Madrid took the gun and inspected it. “Came through that better than we did. My death count is up to nine, now.” He rubbed the small of his back, where the beam had crushed him. He walked up to Silvan and Jin, shook Jin’s hand, and hugged Silvan. “Thanks.”

Jayesh followed him in handshakes and hugs. “We did it,” he said, gesturing to the collapsed tower. “Hashladun was in there when it fell. Boy, did she scream.”

“I got Zulmak,” said Silvan, gesturing to the motionless corpse behind her, still flickering with dying soulfire. The small talk about the mission seemed superficial and tiny compared to the grief and adrenaline still churning within her. She wanted to hug them all and never let go, she wanted to cry, she wanted to sleep for years. But the only thing she could do at the moment was cry. So she did, in the privacy of her helmet, with her radio turned off, as they rode their sparrows back to camp.

* * *

Hashladun’s energy shield vanished when the collapsing tower destroyed the crystal empowering it. She died in a wave of hatred and rage against the Guardians who had outwitted her. Her will had extended to her lesser cousins, who in turn had been commanding the army in the night side of the moon. When Hashladun died, that will vanished, and her cousins scattered in confusion. The troops of knights, acolytes, and thralls had no direction, and ran wherever they liked. Without the witches to drive them onward with songs of hate and war, the thralls, in particular, fled back to their holes. They knew too well that their superiors considered them expendable, and had no desire to throw their lives away fighting Guardians.

Nightmares vanished all over the moon, as well. It was as if the pyramid had some evil communion with the Hive that created them. While a nightmare or two lingered in some places, or continued to haunt the occasional Guardian, they no longer appeared in the same numbers.

The Guardians left the moon at last, exhausted from being awake for days and fighting most of the time. But none of them forgot the nightmares they had encountered, or what they meant.

Silvan and Madrid took the Darkness gun to the Reef. Petra Venj accepted it on behalf of Mara Sov, shuddering at the icy touch of the metal. Madrid and Silvan were freed of their obligation, Madrid’s debt paid at last.

Yet Madrid stayed behind, in the Tangled Shore. Silvan didn’t ask why.

Deep in Spider’s lair, in a cave in the Tangled Shore, a young Awoken Guardian lifted his head from the machine he was building. Madrid stood in the doorway, gazing at him.

“Hello,” said the Guardian. “Madrid, right?”

“Right,” said the Hunter. He stood in silence a moment, as if struggling with himself. Then he stepped forward. “Need some help?”

“Sure,” said the young Guardian. He gestured at the tattered cloak he wore, with Spider’s logo painted across his chest. “I work for Spider now.”

“I see,” said Madrid. He glanced at the Ghost hovering nearby, and at the lump of wires and plastic stuck to its shell. “I know what it’s like to be a prisoner.”

The Guardian looked away. “Yeah. So. Here’s what I’m working on …”

Madrid pulled up a crate and sat down beside him.

* * *

The sun was setting over the Last City, washing the sky in streaks of orange and pink. A few miles outside the City, Silvan sat on a log, watching the sun go down. The mountainside was lightly forested and rocky. Not much cover. A good Hunter could snipe her from a distance and she’d never know it. But Silvan sat with her back to the Renegade and feared no harm.

After a while, the Renegade joined her on the log. He was taller than her, wrapped in an earth-colored cloak that had seen better days. The hood shadowed his eyes, leaving only his chin and mouth visible.

“Haven’t seen you in years, Nerisis,” said the Hunter. “What brings you out this way?”

Silvan nodded at the moon, a waning crescent. “Been keeping up with the news?”

He glanced up at it. “Hive shenanigans. Some kind of pyramid, they say.”

Silvan nodded. “It caused Guardians to see people and things connected to past trauma. It showed me Dredgen Yor.”

The Renegade didn’t move.

Silvan added, “And Dredgen Vale.”

His head turned with a jerk as he peered at her from beneath his hood. “And why would it show you that?”

“Because,” Silvan said quietly, “I blamed myself. I watched you walk that path. I should have stopped you. Turned you back to the Light.”

The Renegade reached up and pushed back his hood at last. He was of Asian descent, his black hair streaked with gray, as if his immortal life had been a long, hard one. “Silvan … I had to walk that path for the good of others. We had to find out if it was possible to control the Darkness. To take the gifts it offered, to use them for good, without becoming corrupted.”

“Did you, Shin?” Silvan asked, her silver eyes meeting his dark ones. “Did you remain entirely uncorrupted?”

He looked away.

Silvan folded her hands in her lap and looked at them. “You were my nightmare. My guilt. We were kids, Shin. I fought in Twilight Gap and you were already hunting Yor. I always wished I could have helped you, somehow. But you would never let me.”

“My path was different from yours,” Shin Malphur replied. He smiled, then, and his hard expression softened toward kindness. “You were one of the ones on my mind as we studied Yor’s teachings. His madness. I had to study the Darkness, walk the path of sorrow, so you wouldn’t have to. Because of what I learned, you could take up the Darkness’s gifts with the hope of using them for good, in service of the Light. Without my studies, no Guardian would have that hope.”

Silvan nodded, thinking about this. “I’ve read your books, Shin. They’re masterful. Mara Sov requested that I build a weapon of Darkness to free a friend from imprisonment. We found a … splinter. It enabled us to wield ice as a weapon. If it hadn’t been for the groundwork you’d already laid, I’d have never dared to try it. I’d probably have just … exchanged myself for the prisoner I freed.”

She looked up to see Shin staring at her with that cold, measuring expression. She held out a hand. “Read my Light. I’m not corrupted. But I’m afraid.”

He took her hand and held it for a long moment. She sensed him scanning her Light with his own, testing, hunting. Silvan relaxed and let him probe. She had nothing to hide. She didn’t even put up psychic defenses.

At last he released her hand and sighed, long and deeply. His shoulders slumped as he gazed out at the fading sky. “Sometimes,” he murmured, “I tire of having to suspect friends.”

“Me too,” said Silvan. “And I’m sorry for what I … didn’t do. Could have done. Maybe.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Shin replied quietly. “I had to walk that path. But no longer. That tale is told, the books written, the directions given. It’s up to you to guide younger Guardians, now.”

Silvan nodded. “Will you join us when the Darkness comes?”

“When night falls, all Guardians must stand together,” said Shin Malphur. “I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” said Silvan. After a moment, she rose to her feet and walked away. When she looked back, the Renegade still sat on the log, watching her go. 

He didn’t look like her Nightmare at all.

* * *

The end


End file.
